


A Quiet Place

by rey_rensolo



Category: A Quiet Place (Movies - Krasinski), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, F/M, Living on a farm, Mention of Mutilation, Mention of pregnancy, Religious Fanaticism, Rey is a survivor, ben is a lonely and sad man hungry for touch, ben is not an idiot but likes to make himself one to get his hands on rey, ben's neighbors will be a problem soon, finn is not a nice guy with rey, happy endings despite everything, rey is manipulative and calculating, rey is very aware of her sexuality and who she is, so try to consider your reasons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:08:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25937182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rey_rensolo/pseuds/rey_rensolo
Summary: On a farm in the midwestern United States, Ben Solo, lives isolated around other survivors after the appearance of a ghostly and frightening entity. To protect himself, he must remain in absolute silence, at any cost, as the danger is activated by the perception of sound.But when faced with a wounded and alone woman when he returned home, he was forced to choose between saving her life and putting his own safety at risk or letting her die and live with the consequences of it.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico, Poe Dameron/Finn, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 22
Kudos: 56





	1. The girl

He could feel it when the first rays of sunlight in the cold December morning hit his back, casting his shadow on the ground. His eyes scanned each of the red brick buildings all the way down the street until he found the place he was looking for. The sign over the entrance to the establishment said in large, cursive letters the word: _Pharmacy_. The only trace of the glass doors that were once there were the pieces scattered along the floor - which he made sure not to step on thus avoiding any glimpse of noise.

He sneaked through the corridors towards the antibiotic section in the back while his eyes scanned the shelves in search of something extra he could take, or the presence of anything other than human.

Ben felt his muscles relax under his clothes after realizing that he was alone and free from danger. Still his mind remained alert, ready for any setback that might arise.

When he reached his goal, he took precautions when removing the last three vials of antibiotics from the shelf, endeavoring to make as little noise as he could propagate in the air and report his location to the nearest creature. He left one of the handles the backpack on his back hangs from one of his shoulders and removed a box and a face towel from inside, where the pills would be poured and kept inside the object, abstaining from any noise.

Ben was quick but calculated to open the containers and perform that task quickly. Cautiously, he slid the bag's suspenders over his shoulder toward the floor in a place that could support it on the shelf and not risk diving into the floor. Barefoot, he walked down the hall, evaluating other shelves, examining the label on the bottles and medicine boxes that might be of use in the near future.

Exploring a little more of the environment, he observed - due to the condition he found the place - that other people had been there before, and that due to the blood scattered on the floor in one of the corridors he had passed, not all of these visits ended up very well.

He didn't want to go back to that pharmacy anytime soon and face these eventualities, so the more fueled he was, the less reason he had to return to that region. He was a country man and in the country he was supposed to stay.

The cities with all their buildings, lights, sights and sumptuousness, including the torrent of voices overlapping one on top of the other, ended up proving themselves competent to completely submerge those same voices in a deep precipice towards death. An efficient and abrupt blow which they never had a chance to defend against.

He gained a chance to survive, and he certainly wasn't likely to get away from it that easily.

Ten minutes later, Ben returned to the place where he had put his backpack and filled its empty spaces with gauze, cotton, antiseptics, tape and toiletries. The box that had put the antibiotics in it now contained new pills, scissors, alcohol and saline. Swallowing an antibiotic pill, he finished organizing all the items in the bag, put the backpack back on and spun on his heels toward the exit.

The sun, until that moment, was not very high in the sky, sheltering dark clouds that inflated and extended under the blue sky, blocking the morning light. After crossing the empty area, where the glass doors should have been, he stagnated in front of the facade staring at the end of the empty street.

Garbage and four abandoned trucks were the main decoration of the trail. Wide-open doors, as well as open or broken windows, could be seen in homes and local businesses. For a moment, he wondered if he was being watched. Ben had been to the city a few times that year and in all of them, he never noticed the presence of another person, but maybe there was a chance he was wrong.

Now they were living in a world without laws. Trust was a luxury that could not be afforded.

The man looked away and went down the front stairs, walking over the sandy path he had prepared along the path from his farm to there. Established in the middle of the asphalt, the purpose “of this place” was to inhibit any kind of sound that could attract the creatures, making their movement safe wherever they wanted to go. The forest and the woods that surrounded his farm provided many prints due to the branches and foliage that covered the land, which made the sand an indisputable security.

Ben was already crossing the gravel road into the closed forest, covered with a thin layer of fog, when he was struck by an emotion of horror and disgrace that suddenly paralyzed him in place. A sensation of cold rose up his spine.

A few meters from where he was standing, he observed a pale woman with dirty cheeks and brown hair, lying on the tall grass, returning a look identical to his in his direction. 

There was an open cut above her eyebrow and a serious wound on her thigh, which she tried unsuccessfully to stop the blood that was pouring out using one hand. Every trace on his face expressed fear, apprehension and pain, but also a line of hope. Hope he could help her.

Ben swallowed a saliva cake and rubbed his sweaty hands on his jeans.

" _What_ _do_ _I_ _do_?" he asked, confused and scared. His heart raced, his scalp looked icy and suddenly too small to cover his skull. He could feel the sudden rush of adrenaline rushing behind his eyes. Before he could say or think of anything, a high-pitched scream ripped through the silence and shot through the air through some bushes miles ahead of them.

The girl gave him a desperate look hissing a cry for help with her lips. He caught a strange movement among the trees, accompanied by a resounding tremor inside the land, approaching the place where the cry broke out getting close to where the two were. The sound was getting closer every second.

He didn't stop to think, he just acted.

Precipitately, he grabbed the girl and put her under his shoulders, turning in the direction of the path he had come from. He ran through the soft brooding sand towards the nearest tree. He seated her on the thick roots of the trunk, sliding across the wood until he was seated behind her. 

Covering the girl's mouth with one hand and circling her waist with the other, he looked at the face of the stranger, hidden by the threads stuck to her skin from sweat and shook his head. Her fingers pressed to his chest. It was a sign that she trusted him.

With their eyes converging on each other, their breaths uneven and the air between them saturated with something that they couldn't decipher the meaning, at that moment, the sudden change of screams by the sound of claws tearing bones, and the smell of death impregnating the air, it can almost be forgotten before the bonds that the two seemed to create.


	2. Amid Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben tries to follow his routine to the letter while evaluating the implications that the presence of the unknown woman he found in the forest can cause in his life...

The crash of thunder broke through the sea of clouds in the sky, like a cry of anger reverberating inside a dark, closed room. The vegetation around the farm swayed violently with the force of the winds that came from the west, casting shadows on all sides, which made it almost impossible to distinguish what was really a shadow and what could be something else. His eyes watched the wind currents bringing the first drops of rain, making them hurl themselves against the windows scattered around the farmhouse in a drastic and continuous way, at the same time that an electrical discharge passed through the clouds emitting a brief purple illumination over the property, lighting up one’s figure for a quick second before returning it to darkness.

Cold, wind and rain.

In the past that bad weather would have been received as a bad thing, an omen of "hard times" for some locals. But the world has undergone significant changes since then, causing certain precepts and the way of looking at life in that small town to be carefully reviewed. Ben expected the storm to last more than a few hours, although there was little faith on his part about such an idea. Natural sounds like rain or the current of a river, for example, could easily camouflage other noises, being the only guaranteed opportunity not to attract the creatures. He would still need to be cautious about the movements he was going to make that night but not as much as usual and that relieved him deeply.

For months, his mind had been held hostage by fear and the growing need to ensure his own survival, after the extinction of the society he knew, and the death of the people he loved. Despite this he was aware that he was living in better times considering the moment when the usurpation had started.

He remembered the widespread panic in the eyes of the crowd, the fear installed in the air like a virus that you can't help but be infected with, the restlessness and horror of watching empires and entire cities burn in flames, blood and destruction everywhere, without ever having a real chance to defend themselves in that war. Their enemies had come from the confines of the starry, freezing darkness of space, unable to see the world around them but possessing a highly superior auditory sense with which no creature on Earth would be able to compete.

Adapting to the new lifestyle was exhausting, at other times it was desperate, since loneliness seemed to have plagued that part of the world for months so that Ben could no longer tell who survived or who died. At times, he had the impression that he was one of the last alive in that region of the United States. This feeling could easily materialize in your thoughts if there were no other people living around your farm and communicating with him every day before dark. He liked to know that there were others like him at his fingertips, and that they faced one day after another to guarantee what remained of the meaning of the word life in the midst of this scenario of fear and destruction. It was not as if that fact is easier. Pain and loneliness continued to poison your insides, butchering every fragment of your heart like cancer. He hoped it would kill him, he just didn't know when, although he prayed it would happen soon.

Waiting made him crazy but it also disturbed him.

He couldn't say whether his parents were still alive in Detroit, or whether any of his friends in New York had managed to escape the attacks. His grandfather had left the farm in his name before he died of a heart attack, leading Ben to think about selling it and paying off some debts he had in New York, as well as offering financial support to parents who were in need. He knew that the decision would disappoint his grandfather. After all, he had spent a good part of his childhood in that house and would hate to lose the memories he kept there. But it was a choice that needed to be made no matter how difficult it was.

He planned to come to South Dakota for a three-day stay in order to finalize the sale of the property, with a local businessman, and return home with the money that would make his financial condition satisfactory over a long period of time. But then the world turned upside down, hurling everything towards the center of a storm that had no prediction to end. Now, he was doomed to live the rest of his life behind those walls as his grandfather once wished. Ben almost wanted to laugh. The world was a deliberately strange place and he hated it with all his might.

He stepped away from the windows and went to the dining table, looking at the three piles of freshly washed clothes on the wood, waiting to be folded and stored in their respective places. Housework was never an obligation he liked but it was not as if he could do anything to change that reality. Leaving laziness aside, he started to do the task thinking of the girl he had met in the forest.

The cut dug into the stranger's eyebrow hadn't been deep so Ben just needed to clean and apply a Band-Aid over it. The thigh wound, on the other hand, had been shot through and needed much more attention than the first. She was lucky that the bullet did not stay in the inner thigh, that would have made things difficult for him to resolve. Even so, the girl had lost a lot of blood on the way home. He had cleaned the wound as best as he could giving him an antibiotic to prevent further infection. Although the woman had shown no signs of fever it had been exactly two days since she was unconscious without showing any changes or signs that such a thing could happen.

He was already convinced that her life was no longer in his hands, and all he could do was keep it safe and warm for as long as it took.

The crash of new thunder cut the air, followed by another not long after.

After finishing folding the first pile of clothes, he moved on to the next and insisted on remaining very focused on the task, no matter how simple it was, to remove that restlessness that flooded his chest. Ben was unable to silence the thought that took root in his mind, which alerted him to the future consequences of this humanitarian action. His mind guided him back to the scream that reverberated between him and the stranger in the forest when they met: there was someone with her in that place.

Someone who was probably responsible for causing the injury to his thigh. Benjamin was sure that whoever it was was dead, but he was the only one? Were there others? The lack of response was what most distressed him at that moment, as it was already difficult to worry about preserving a silent life in order to escape from the creatures that now inhabited his world, to be conditioned by this factor and still be forced to fear survivors scattered throughout the region was a risk that he did not want to face.

But what could he do? He wouldn't be able to just welcome the stranger and wait until she recovered just to send her away, would he? What kind of man would he be if he did that?

_ The guy who puts his safety first, his conscience warned him. _

He exhaled the air through his mouth and shook his head, pressing his mind to put the matter aside. He would wait patiently until the woman woke up from her sleep and decided what to do next. Maybe there was nothing to worry about, but maybe he had been living a routine of survival for so long that he had forgotten that life was more than that, just as his life was not the only one that mattered.

Sometimes he found himself thinking how easy it was to digest the loneliness that the farm gave him after all the chaos had set in. However suffocating and toxic it was, Ben was always surrounded by smiles and faces throughout his life and in no time during those years, he allowed himself to stop and reflect on what it would be like to live with their absence. It had never occurred to him to miss what he never lacked.

But now that he was existing day after day in limbo, in the absence of all those faces, he was surprised to find that he not only wanted those people back, but he had also unlearned how to live among them and see them the same way as before. Ben was nothing short of the skin of the man he once was, always putting himself first, although such a choice could cost someone else's life.

Ben finished the task and sighed in disapproval as he brought those thoughts back to light. He was determined not to be bothered by it anymore. There was nothing he could do to change the situation other than to continue to take care of his life.

He left the kitchen carrying a basket in his arms where he had placed the freshly folded clothes, heading towards the top floor.

He crossed the hall, the living room, reaching the stairs and climbing the stairs one after the other, not caring too much about the creaks they might make. The sound of a storm echoed again followed by the violent sound of rain against the roof and windows of the house. Time has shown him how different the way of seeing and living with natural events can be in an open space like the farm, when you are away from the countless long concrete and metal buildings that clustered around avenues throughout the city, away from the clutter of noise and dazzling lights everywhere. Ben never thought he would find peace in such simple things but he had found it after all.

It is true that he never felt so alone in his life as he did now, and although he sometimes saw only the bad side of living in these conditions and in that place, he needed to recognize the good parts and value them as well. The situation could be different in fact much worse —  he knew —  and his self-pity sometimes irritated him turning it into a vicious circle that was almost impossible to get out of.

Ben forced himself to end the mental torture that would only serve to lead him to a precipice of frustrations, which he had no intention of falling into. After climbing the bottom step, he turned left, walking down the hall until he entered his room. Soon after turning on the bedroom lights, he went to the closet next to the bed and left the basket of clothes on the floor, starting to collect the pieces and place them in their respective spaces. In the middle of the task, he realized that it was almost time for dinner, the hands of the clock on his wrist would not take long to reach number seven, and his stomach already showed signs of hunger.

The bad weather suggested soup for the night, and when he finished organizing the clothes in the closet, he was less willing to prepare anything that took more than thirty minutes to get ready.

Ben had never ceased to be impressed by the number of occupations that a life in such circumstances could generate. Life in urban centers offered a range of amenities such as electricity and running water, as well as processed or brought foods from the countryside to supermarket shelves. But now that there was no one to guarantee any of these things, he needed to think about how to solve these problems and find long-term solutions to meet those needs. Many of the solutions found to eliminate the obstacles were thanks to the cooperation of neighbors who lived close to the farm.

Together, they created a cooperation system capable of guaranteeing their survival, establishing rules and conditions that would meet the demands of each one. Until then, the forged alliance was working but on some occasions —  when Ben's mind opened up loopholes to wander into the depths of his being —  doubts arose, raising the big question: how long would it really last?

This world also taught him to always expect the worst, especially when it came to people since they could become the true monsters of this story if they thought the moment demanded it of them. But Ben knew that his best option was to avoid having these daydreams in mind as he needed to focus on the present and a solid alliance with local neighbors. Fearing the worst would not improve the situation.

He finished packing his clothes in the closet and bent down to pick up the basket from the floor, thinking about taking a look at his unconscious guest at the end of the hall before making dinner, when he felt the barrel of a cold object touch the back of his neck. Ben swallowed hard as he went on alert feeling a thick layer of sweat spread on his hands. He took a deep breath more than once, a false calm guiding his movements, since losing control at that moment was not an option.

Internally, he cursed himself for allowing the gun aimed at him to be so close to her reach. He should have been more careful about that. Even in fear, he bent down placing the basket back on the floor and stood up again with his hands raised to the side of his head, slowly turning to his newly awake guest. He tried to convince himself that he was capable of handling the situation, although he didn't have much faith in that thought either.

The stranger looked him straight in the eye. He used one hand to point the gun at the center of his forehead with his index finger next to the trigger, while the other was over the bloody thigh wound behind the bandages. She was panting, her body swayed from side to side, seeming to make an enormous effort to remain standing. Ben soon deduced that the stitches had been broken and there was no chance that she could endure that situation much longer. Drenched in sweat and struggling against the lids that insisted on closing, the woman stood firm and opened her mouth as if to say something, but even before it happened, he had already predicted the outcome of that scenario.

The girl passed out, ready to collapse on the floor with violence, but stopped by Ben's arms that quickly wrapped around her, muffling the fall. However he had not been agile enough to be able to catch the gun in the air, which resulted in a strident thud of the object on the wooden floor, causing a great boom that reverberated in the air.

His heart missed a beat as he sat on the floor of the closet, with the woman passed out and bloody in his arms, processing the events that had just happened. At that moment, Ben could only take a deep breath and wait for the possible arrival of his death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reception with the first chapter made me immensely happy! Thank you! You can find me on [ twitter ](https://twitter.com/reyrensolo),[ tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/r3d-scars),[ instagram ](https://www.instagram.com/benrey_solo/?hl=pt-br) and the story has a [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/24ICxNWVuSy2EzkjqoKIfP?si=67AjwJ5PSRidfse8bwntWg) under construction.
> 
> Until the next!


	3. Bitter Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A possible threat lurks at ben's safety on the farm as our unconscious host awakens and reflects on the possibilities of his new life.

Ben Solo's thoughts were beginning to become blurred running weak as a vibrant fabric that was faded by time. He knew that his panic would increase if he let his mind focus only on what had just occurred, rather than thinking of a way to resolve that situation. In seconds, his breath was jagged and heavy, hearing the sound of the accelerated beats of his heart pounding in his ears, while trembling fingers held the woman's body unconscious in his lap.

He forced his mind to get out of the turbulence of thoughts and feelings that threatened to engulf him, opening a clear and analytical line of reasoning that would lead him to analyze the scenario around him. He tried to remain calm, waiting to hear something, but with the exception of the rain hitting the roof and windows, as well as the thunderstorms that crossed the sky from time to time, he realized that he found himself immersed in a deep and dangerous silence. Although the absence of noise was the primary tool for surviving in that world, this did not always mean safety; sometimes it might not be enough, but in its place was a crowded pause of expectation that predated what could be the astonishing apex of horror and death.

Over the course of the several minutes that followed, Ben remained in standby mode, considering the possibility that the storm muffled the stanza of the weapon, however, this was not a palpable enough statement that would quickly rule out the hypothesis that they detected the sound and were here, somewhere on the farm, looking for him and the girl. Ben saw no choice but to give the situation the benefit of the doubt.

Diverting the focus of his main concern, he examined the woman's condition on his lap. The wound on his thigh was soaked in blood and began to form a puddle on the ground, which, although small, continued to grow. He needed to sort it out as soon as possible. With his hands under her head, he lay her on the floor slowly and carefully, standing up right away. Solo turned around, analyzing the few drawers in the closet, looking for the first aid kit he had kept in one of them, although he couldn’t remember which one. When he finally found her he returned to the unknown and sat facing her wound, initiating the necessary care in the area.

His hands were dirty with blood, his eyes focused on the task of retsumking the stitches and cleaning the wound, when a loud noise could be heard on the roof of the house, as if someone had just landed on it. Ben stood motionless immediately, did not even dare to breathe or blink; fear flowed within his veins causing a certain acceleration in his heartbeat. His eyelids closed and body shrank waiting for the blow that would reap his life. He thought there would be blood, screaming and a lot of pain in his last moments, or that maybe it could be a quick, painless death, like pulling out a Band-Aid at once. He had feared and waited for months for the arrival of that day, but now he couldn't believe it was actually happening.

Agonizing minutes dragged on as their apprehensions waned. His eyelids opened and his irises again observed the room through the open door of the closet. He was still alive and completely alone. The house showed no signs of noise or footsteps either. But Ben wasn't convinced yet; he felt he needed to investigate the situation with his own eyes before he could force himself to believe it. After completing medical care with the stranger, he retired from the room carrying the girl in his arms, accommodating her in his own bed.

Sneakily returned to the closet picking up the shotgun he kept there. His eyes aimed toward the windows covered by the white curtains and also to the ceiling under his head, properly positioning the gun in his hands, and then launched himself out of the room reaching the empty and illuminated hallway. Solo observed both sides of the aisle, pointing the gun in both directions with the intention of defending himself if there was a need. There wasn't one. In view of this, he advanced towards the stairs, placing one foot in front of the other without provoking any sound. Ben took a deep breath, doing a numerical count internally until he reached number three, when he stood in the center of where the steps began directing the shotgun to where they ended. The floor underneath seemed empty too. He felt his chest more relieved, though he was not yet completely safe.

After one last look at the path he had come, Ben observed the specific part of the steps that were painted with a strip of worn yellow paint, representing the region considered safe to tread, without them easing any sound. Days after the invasion of the creatures, he realized some planks that covered the ground, moaned whenever he passed over, causing him to test each of them in every room, and mark those where there was no problem in walking. Still, he needed to touch the wood on tiptoe slowly, using the walls as support or maintaining balance. Even though he did it a thousand times, he couldn't stop the high dose of nervousness that seeped through his veins. Solo only found himself able to breathe normally and forget the apprehension that surrounded his heart when he finished lowering them and can finally resume focus for his unsettling inspection.

Ben had already checked every room on that floor and abandoned his defensive position some time ago, when he heard the second stamp on the roof of the house: Bang! Something hit the ceiling. He froze at the same instant, his eyes turned on the ceiling, feeling the body so tense that it looked painful. This is the unwanted version of it even though it is located only at millimeters under your skin 24 hours a day —  a physical and mental transformation of a man in incarnate protection. Seconds later a high-pitched sound of claws sliding down the aluminum roof emerged. He followed the sound with his eyes, and then silence. This caused him to crouch and walk to one of the living room windows where the sound stopped above, holding the shotgun hard against his chest while holding a finger next to the trigger. Ben pushed the curtain away, but from his low position, could only see the edge of the roof and the scary swinging of the Christmas lights.

He began to rise, his face now practically pressed against the glass, when suddenly a buzz of screams and grunts appeared, and a large falling figure passed through the window, showing two raccoons falling to the ground, fighting, fleeing and disappearing into the dark outside. Somehow Ben exuded a relaxed demeanor, breath slow and calm, a trick he had undoubtedly learned with a lot of practice, and then distanced himself from the window going to check the stranger in his bed.

The two raccoons turned the corner to a path briefly illuminated by the purplish light of a lightning that had crossed the sky at that instant, toward the forest. Entertained in their dispute, they were distracted from the glimpse of a huge dark figure moving at a humanly impossible speed to follow, amid the trees and bushes, crossing the path they came along, getting closer and closer to the two animals. The most uncontrollable and horrible of soundsarose, and a giant black claw crushed the head of the first raccoon, tearing through the flesh and bones, splashing blood everywhere as the other raccoon ran with a gentle but penetrating scream, sneaking through the branches and dead foliage on the ground.

Only the wind could be heard afterwards.

[...]

It was morning. Dark clouds covered the sky, foreshadowing more episodes of rain throughout the day. From the top, sitting in front of the window, she looked out onto the sandy path between the red barn and the white farm. She could see a telephone pole nearby, where a row of birds are persnatable on top of the wire, moving their heads from side to side, rummaging through their wet, and always silent feathers. Rey couldn't remember the last time she had heard the song of birds, or even seen one in person, they were hard to find these days, an exotic rarity within this new world, though it wasn't that new.

Her greenish eyes returned to look inside the room, passing on recent events in her head. She had been awake for some time, even before day break, after being awakened by the unbearable pain that radiated from the wound on her thigh. It took a lot of control and discipline not to allow a scream to escape from her throat, her head was spinning and a region of her lips cut off due to incessant pressure from her teeth. She had already convinced herself that she would not have endured it for long and would need to call for help when she came across a glass of water and two tablets on the dresser next to the bed, with two pieces of paper written on the side of each item: "Drink me"; "Swallow me." She might have found the situation funny if the pain wasn't keeping her brain from thinking about it.

But now that the pain was almost eradicated, and Rey was back to reflect on it, she couldn't contain the little smile that opened on her lips, thinking about the man who saved her life. He could have turned around and left her alone in the forest, wounded, at the mercy of death, or the suffering that was inserted before her appearance, but did not, risking his safety to secure a second chance for her. It made her feel guilty about last night's developments and broke her smile immediately.

What could she even say? She was held hostage to fear and insecurity at that moment, numb by his despair being equal to others, of the possibility of being dragged to hell and condemning more days, months of pain and loneliness again. No, she wouldn't let that happen —  could not let that come to pass. Her escape had caused Finn's death in the woods and they would punish her harshly for it, making her life look like a purgatory compared to what would come next. Her experiences with people since the invasion of the creatures had not been the best, teaching her to fear and defend herself if necessary. Although the unknown had saved her, nothing led the woman to believe that her deed had good intentions. Of course, in view of everything that happened, she had no choice but to admit her mistake and feel relieved that the gesture did not result in the death of the two.

Rey vaguely recalled finding the gun in the room where he was before that, walking with difficulty down the hall until he found his savior, and it was only, after that he remembered seeing the world turn and be swallowed up by darkness afterwards. He could barely disguise his anxiety in seeing the man again and thanking him for what he was doing for him, as well as taking the opportunity to find out some information about himself. Did he live on this farm alone? Were there any other survivors around? Would he allow her to be in this house or send her away when she had recovered?

Nervous, Rey began twisting her hands, swallowing. Her throat was dry.. If the man enacted a verdict like that, there was no indication that she could survive out there alone. She didn't want to be lonely, it was very difficult to live in this world like that. Perhaps if she showed the advantages of why her presence might be useful to him in some way, as a pair of extra hands, rather than one more concern in his life, there would be a chance of her savior authorizing her permanent stay in the house. Yes, she sketched a hopeful smile, there was a good chance this idea would work.

Besides if she were confined inside the walls of this farm, they would never find her here. She’d find peace and security to enjoy whatever was left of the meaning of the word "life." They were a large group of forty people who lived on the other side of the city and subjected themselves to all kinds of barbarism in order to get food and conserve their lives. Over time, the group's leaders expanded their motivations and needs to other directions involving strange religious practices that undertook certain dubious attitudes, such as mutilation, physical violence, and murder. Rey couldn't take another minute of it and the first chance she saw in an attempt to prevent the worst from occurring to her, she fled to this side of town where she knew she wouldn't be followed by anyone. However, Finn had seen her on her escape and had decided to come after her alone. In fact, he had always been the worst since he had a sick obsession with Rey's figure. Things eventually got out of hand and resulted in such a catastrophe but if it wasn't for the man who rescued her, she had no idea where she would be now.

There were disputes among other groups to get territory and food in the region they resided in, none of them would be stupid enough to move away from what they called home. The geographical location gave them many advantages while this part of the city had the reputation of being uninteresting and free of survivors. Rey failed miserably to hide her relief at the rumors being wrong.

She directed her attention to the landscape outside, thinking about the possibilities of her new life when the bedroom door opened and a man walked past her, carrying a bowl and a plastic cup in his hands. He possessed long shoulder-length hair, golden eyes, strong arms, and a broad body on the imminence of filling a space with his presence, emanating masculinity. She chokes a sigh in her mouth, blinking a few times toward her.

She never wanted as much of a thing as she wanted to stay on that farm, safe from all the horror the world prayed out there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on [ twitter ](https://twitter.com/reyrensolo),[ tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/r3d-scars),[ instagram ](https://www.instagram.com/benrey_solo/?hl=pt-br) and the story has a [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/24ICxNWVuSy2EzkjqoKIfP?si=67AjwJ5PSRidfse8bwntWg) under construction.


	4. Splashes of a Past in Ashes

His eyes remained fixed and incessant in the dim and almost precarious light that came from the lamp next to the sofa. His retinas had become accustomed to the low clarity for some time, eliminating the intolerance he had felt at first altogether. He leaned into one of his arms as a headrest while the other rested on his belly. His body stretched out on the medium-sized, bare couch, he had his feet on top of the upholstered arm, his mind lost in a memory of the past.

His body was warm. All that inebriated air of the bar involved a circle of people carefree with life, enjoying the pleasant chords of a guitar sounding in the background. Alcohol and marijuana helped to leave him relaxed as he watched her body move in a sexy sync, sliding her hands down her curves, or rolling her hips, or moving them from side to side towards her. He was her focus and she was his. Ben couldn't describe how much he liked it.

The combination of red and blue lights that filled the environment, referred to sensations of provocation, danger and seduction, which could be very well designated to describe what happened between the two. Taking a sip of his whisky, he realized the confidence and safety emanating from the woman in front of him, approving such qualities, while letting a curiosity, until then nonexistent, surface in his heart to learn more about the young woman. He had no pretense in finding a permanent partner. On the contrary, his goal was solely sexual, a shock of bodies to spend the night, entitled to collisions between mouths, and internal walls of a female intimacy squeezing his cock. Curiosity would dissipate the instant he made her his own for one night, and then they would follow opposite paths the next day, and hopefully, they would never run into each other again.

So he liked to chat a little with his suitors, dig what was beneath the surface, since most of the women he slept with wanted to go another round later. In fact, they only asked for his number but this in itself was more than an indication of what they really wanted, and what a simple connection could lead to. No, Ben was out of that kind of relationship. He didn't even need to know her name, and he didn't care if she didn't want to know his, carnality was the only thing he really craved from the opposite sex — at least for now.

Looking nauseous from that little game of seduction, the woman walked up to him showing a little smile on her lips covered in a blood-red lipstick. She smelled like vanilla and some spice he couldn't identify. The conversation flowed naturally between the two, sharing the stage with a few kisses and glasses of a golden drink ordered at the bar. Soon they were out of everyone's sight, exchanging some hot make-up on a hotel bed, naked, wrapped in sweat, saliva, kisses, tongues, frictions between intimacies, and a delicious contortion in the belly until they reached their orgasms.

The memory provoked reactions in his body, causing him to divert attention from the lamp and rummage on the couch, bothered. He missed that freedom, the eruptions that sex caused through body and mind, as well as the sight of a naked woman riding on her lap; her hands flattened into her chest, her eyes closed as she threw her head back in complete ecstasy. He let out a disgruntled breath. What Ben wouldn't give to experience that again.

He was so inert in his daydreams that he had not realized the time of the day. Sleeping became a complicated task after last night's scare, he was awake most of the morning brooding the past and avoiding the present, wandering through memories that crackled in his mind. But he wouldn't have any choice now that he couldn't get off the couch and do what he always did at this time of the morning. You had to be quick if you didn't want to be late for the date.

[...]

The signs of the storm that occurred last night are everywhere, from the dripping roof to the wet grass. Ben found himself walking along the path of sand, which was wet, feeling the small grains stick to the soles of the feet, generating a certain discomfort between the fingers. But there was nothing he could do about it at the time. Located a few feet after the red barn, there was a rusty metal tower, where Ben's grandfather used it once to store wheat. The tower had been unused for a long time, although he had decided to use it for a specific purpose lately

Climbing the stairs of the metal tower, he quickly reached the top, perching up there to feel at the top of the world. From that time it was possible to see that the farm was in a clearing, surrounded by a tangled forest of mountains. Ben sits on a stool there, and picks up a plastic bottle of gasoline, spraying all its contents inside a shallow metal surface in front of him. Then pulled a lighter from the coat pocket and took advantage of the sound of a strong wind current, to light the fire. He watched the huge orange flames glow as a cloud of smoke rose through his silhouette. Well, what did he know? It was time.

A moment later, a line of Christmas lights sparkled to life above a wide sandy path, just north of the metal tower. Then another line of white Christmas lights flashed, revealing a trail that connects the red barn to an old white farm to the south. And then another line of lights, and another, and another, like the electrical grid of a city coming back to life, a maze of countless sand trails appeared, meticulously arranged, illuminating the entire farm as other flames rise and shine along the ridge.

Ben analyzed the smoke that dissipated in the air at specific points of the mountains around the house, and outside it as well, identifying his neighbors one by one: Rose and Armitage Hux; Phasma; Kaydel Connix and Ana Dickson; Cassian Andor; Jyn Erso; Christian Woolf; Florence and Mark Bennett... he sat his eyes in the direction of the Ackbar family home, where no sign of smoke was seen. The row of Christmas lights, like parallel telephone wires with two large lamp cables, one red and one white, danced amusingly in the wind, erased. He waited for a few more minutes, but the scenery remained unchanged, with no doubt about what had happened to that family.

The sand functioned as a link between the houses, as well as the city, the river, and the alternative routes demarcated to arrive at the same location. Above or around their residence were Christmas lights, which signaled the presence of each one there, that is, it was a warning: I'm still alive and surviving here. When one of them didn't turn on the lights at the stipulated time, it was a clear message that they were dead. They had begun that pact with fourteen families, 42 people, and counting on him now, discarding the four members of the Ackbar family, there were only 11 left—twelve if he included the unknown in his home.

If there was still an ongoing war with creatures in the world, Ben was convinced that the human side was at rock bottom, and falling, slowly succumbing to the absence of hope out there.

He looked at the horizon: it was officially the sunrise, if there was one, since the thick layers of dark clouds that covered the sky hid it from view. After a few moments, the flame began to weaken and fade slowly, accompanied by the blackout of the Christmas lights and the bonfires of its neighbors as well. Ben got up and moved toward two curved bars on the side of the tower, and then he turned around and began to descend the stairs, thinking about which of his neighbors would be the next to die.

[...]

Her hands held the bowl from the sides as her lips leaned against the edge, encased in the oatmeal with pieces of strawberry in her mouth, chewing and swallowing more and more of the meal below. It was impossible not to feel like a child trying to avoid licking himself with food on the watchful eye of an adult, when the man who will save his life would set himself next to the closet stop, peering into it in silence.

Rey made no effort to try to keep his eyes away from him, returning his gaze in the same intensity, contemplating his rustic, intriguing traits, and the grumpy and fierce appearance. She had thick thighs, clinging to faded jeans and a chest covered by a white mesh shirt, which could not hide her well-worked muscles, and was tall enough to force her to raise her head if she wanted to face her face. There was no beard to cover his face, the skin was very clear and with few pine cones scattered throughout the region; he was a virile and aggressive beauty.

She cleaned the bottom of the bowl and stretched it out to the man in front of her, who walked up to Rey in stride, circling one hand on the object while delivering it the glass containing a whitish liquid, which she had deduced to be milk. Ben examined her frowning and drinking the drink, uncertain, as if testing her taste before deciding to swallow it. The questions about her seemed to triple after that, not being able to stop thinking about the mistake she might be making by welcoming that woman into her home.

She was supposed to be in his early twenties, being a little younger than Ben, possessing a curved body, and brown hair that went up to a few inches after the shoulders. The pale, almost unhealthy aspect of his skin, denounced the lack of exposure to the sun, making it possible to distinguish the bluish paths that the veins made in some parts of his body. Ben also noticed the dark bags under her eyes, the tired features, as well as the hopeful expression directed at his image. He did not expect to find her awakened when she entered the room, but felt relieved to see the stranger alive and feeding on her bed, proving that her efforts had not been in vain.

He was patient in waiting for her to empty the glass, promptly collecting it from his hands after the end of the drink, then turning his back and forwarding the kitchen, leaving them on the countertop, and returning to the room afterwards. Rey frowned, confused, watching the man rummage through a closet drawer looking for something. He is so silent in exercising his movements that he gave the impression of not even being present next to her, making her wonder about the possibility of her savior being truly real or a dream, an invention of her lonely and aching mind.

Ben approached Rey again holding a notebook and a pen in his hands. Her conscience was at peace after witnessing the effect of her efforts in saving that girl's life, however, if she were to keep her under her roof until full recovery, she would need detailed information about the day he found her in the forest. The cries of horror that dominated that place for brief seconds were stuck in his skull, leading him to believe that there were strong clues to fear, although he could not point out the cause exactly.

Solo sat on the edge of the bed facing her and rested the notebook on her leg, beginning to scribble under the first line of the sheet in a gentle and careless motion. Rey's eyes watch him intently, filled with anxiety and distress. It showed her the content on paper when it ends:

"My name is Benjamin Solo, but everyone calls me Ben. What's yours?"

She concludes the reading of the sentence in a neat handwriting in a matter of seconds, picking up the pencil he offered her and writing a response on the bottom line quickly: "Rey Palpatine, but just call me Rey."

Her name echoed in his head as he studied the delicate features of her face: "Right Rey. We need to talk."

She felt a shiver in the back of her head and the room temperature seemed to drop. It was not difficult to guess the topic of the conversation, since the thigh injury and the cut above the eyebrow performed perfectly well in his work of reminding him about.

"About what?" She questions him on paper, her muscles tense and a worried countenance on her face.

"The day we met, I heard a scream in the woods. There was someone else there and you knew him, didn't you? Was he responsible for causing your injuries? I need you to tell me what happened, Rey. If my safety is threatened I have a right to know.

"What if I don't tell you?"

"Then I'll be forced to kick you out of here, because there's no way I'm going to let you stay if I don't know who you are."

They both faced off for what seemed like an eternity as Ben tried to understand why she was reluctant to explain the episode, and Rey planned some way not to tell her the truth. She was already convinced of the lack of other people in the house, after all no one but himself had appeared to see her, that is, loneliness probably made him more cautious with strangers, but suspicious. However, if she could distort one detail here and another there of the original facts, brushing an alternate version that would be in line with what happened, she might have won Ben's permission to remain on the farm until he recovered from the wound, while using it as an opportunity to gain his trust. Rey didn't face hell in order to be shunted this house on the first chance her owner had, would fight to stay in it permanently, just didn't know how she would do it yet.

She simulated a gasp unto distaste, agreeing with Ben's demand, as she slid the pen through the paper: "Yes, I knew him."

The confession does not surprise him, but it also does not satisfy him, serving only as an incentive for him to press her to say more: "And what? Are there other people or was it just the two of you?"

"It was just me and him. We were intercepted by two armed men on the way, they wanted our stuff, I think they were after food. My friend reacted and shot one of them, while the other shot us three times, causing one of the shots to hit me. He said he'd keep the other one busy while I ran away, and that's when I managed to crawl down that sand road and find you."

The notebook returns to the hands of Ben, who devours the adherently filled lines, noting that her story did not seem absurd, although the details narrated did not entirely convince him. Rey bit the inside of her cheek, repeating a silent prayer in her thoughts, static with the fear that enveloped her.

"Then the cry came from your friend?" Ben's question guided Rey to perceive the probing instilled between the lines giving room for interpreting it as a clear sign of doubt.

_Understandable_ , she thought, _since he barely knows me_ . _Maybe if I take a different approach, I can dispel your mistrust for a while._

"I don't know. It is possible that yes" she wrote, cautious in properly formulating her answer: "One of the men was already dead when I walked away while the other was being held by my friend. He must have screamed to lure one of the creatures and put an end to it sacrificing his life to save mine."

The result of her words were immediate, prompting Ben to take a deep breath, her cheeks taken by a natural flush as the sissy look that directed her into disappearing. She wished to sketch a victorious smile at that moment, but did not, properly embodying the role entrusted to herself, in the same way that she had been taught in the months of living with the group she hated so much.

"I'm sorry" said Ben at last, passing on her words again in his mind. "How do you feel?"

The tension moves away from Rey's muscles causing her to squander an expression of feigned sadness on her face, scribbled an answer to give Ben:

"Well, I guess. Thank you for saving me, I can't thank you for everything you're doing for me."

They exchange a significant look, away from the climate of tension and mistrust that surrounded both, allowing themselves to feel comfortable in each other's presence for brief seconds. Ben and Rey were distracted by the lightness of their breaths, thinking about how close they were to each other, their minds beginning to wander between inappropriate scenarios for occasion. He was the first to look away, hastily scratching a phrase in the notebook:

"You need to rest, I'll leave you alone now. Later I'll come back to change your dressing and bring food."

He stood up and said goodbye to Rey with a simple nod, allowing her to undo the unfortunate expression while settling better between the pillows, displaying a radiant smile on her lips. She needed to find a way to stay on that farm but when she thought of the golden-eyed man, she might already have an idea of how she was going to convince him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on [ twitter ](https://twitter.com/reyrensolo),[ tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/r3d-scars),[ instagram ](https://www.instagram.com/benrey_solo/?hl=pt-br) and the story has a [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/24ICxNWVuSy2EzkjqoKIfP?si=67AjwJ5PSRidfse8bwntWg) under construction.


	5. Steel Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I would like to thank everyone who commented on the grammatical part of the story. Fortunately I found an extremely efficient beta reader that quickly reviewed the previous chapters, including this one as well, and it will certainly be of great use to me in the coming ones. I need to warn you that this chapter has a delicate content on multilation and psychological torture. Caution!

In front of the red barn there was another big path of sand with tall grass on each side, revealing a tractor, untouched farm shells and messy farm equipment over the open area. Ben couldn’t fend off the thought that now the place was nothing more than a sinister agricultural vehicle graveyard.

The Christmas lights ran right in the middle of two open tall doors, for a space of two meters, with their edges wrapped in foam. The unlit lamps spread below the high-range ceiling and around Ben as he traversed the two heavy bedspreads at the entrance to the red barn hanging from the ceiling. Through the bedspreads, a dirt floor guided him into an icy and quiet environment, which was infested with some more agricultural machinery and equipment.

The surroundings were very difficult to fully understand at first at first, but Ben's sight acclimated to the darkness. As the ground became clearer, he confidently walked through the cemetery without fear of bumping into the machines and causing a noise. On the left, there were several large stalls for horses, while on the right was a huge pen with rails waiting for a holding for cows to be milked, but that never saw a farmer arrive. Bales of hay were everywhere, including wrapped in machines like an insect pest on a plantation. A pig trough was tipped a few feet ahead, every inch of the walls meticulously covered by a bizarre but elegant cornucopia of garbage. Foam, cardboard and old newspapers were glued to the wall in thick layers.

He arrived at the bottom of the barn and came across a mattress on the floor, Ben lowered himself and pushed him to the side, revealing an opening that would lead him to a makeshift workshop underground. He was quick and careful to descend the makeshift staircase to a small excavated room illuminated by work lights. The concrete floor was cold and the first contact with his bare feet sent chills through Ben’s body, lasting a few seconds before they completely dissipated. Housed against the walls and across the ceiling were wooden beams, the walls were painted an aged red-wine and grease stains and engine oil decorated some points of the floor.

There was a plastic frame with a red light and buttons ahead: it was an image being viewed on a small monitor, a photograph from a security camera. Another monitor was on the board followed by another stacked on top of it, and then one next to it and another, revealing a wall of 20 televisions of all shapes and marks sitting on top of a large countertop covered with notebooks and sliced newspapers. On each screen, there were elements of trees and sand paths, plus the red barn and the white farm. This was a version of a security console overlooking the entire farm and it took a long time to put them together, making Ben not hide the pride he had for doing the feat even in these conditions.

The left wall of the room was covered with notes and newspaper clippings such as:

_"GOVERNMENT DECREES STATE OF PUBLIC CALAMITY"_

_"WORLD'S MOST POPULOUS CITIES ARE THE MAIN ONES"_

In another part of a visible cutout, there was an image from near the huge crater. The title said:

_"NUMBER OF GLOBAL LAND SITES CONFIRMED GROWS TO 128"_

A post-it note adhered to the clipping with the date of November 2018. Ben noticed more clippings envisioning dramatic scenes, headlines and surreal images:

_"THE PRESIDENT CALLS FOR EMERGENCY EVACUATION IN ALL MAJOR CITIES"_

_"CHURCHES, MUSKETs, TEMPLES OF PEOPLE"_

_"SHOCK IMAGES: MILITARY PERSONNEL ARE MASSACRED AROUND THE WORLD"_

There was even a grainy photo of a military outpost with a creature. The title said:

_"MILITARY EXPERTS AGREE: INDESTRUCTIBLE"_

In addition, among the newspaper clippings, there was a map of the State of South Dakota covered by illustrations of forests and rivers, as well as tips on how to get to a gas station, for example. Some cities were circled in red or with a pin stuck up, each accompanied by a date and names of the dead. There was also low-quality safety photos showing the creature, with drawings and analysis of it.

Next to the map, leaning against the wall, there was a large white board filled with risk of thoughts, written and rewritten, with two lists labeled "QUESTIONS" and "CONFIRMED". The question column lists "NO REQUIREMENTS?"; "HOW MANY?"; "WHY DON'T YOU ATTACK ALL THE SOUNDS?" While in the column of confirmed were: "BLIND"; "NO SIGN OF ORGANIZATION"; "DO NOT ATTACK SMALL SOUNDS"; "THERE'S NO WAY TO KILL."

At the end of the picture Ben saw the word "ARMA?", and below it the crossed words: " ~~EXPLOSIVES~~ ", " ~~FIRE~~ ", " ~~CHEMICAL~~ ". He was still not convinced of the possibility that the creatures were indestructible, after all, every living being could be killed, he just needed to find out how.

It was possible to see near the drawing board a tension prey and a shark using magnetic fields, as well as dolphins sailing through mines, electromagnetic schemes and images of an inner ear. Ben devoted a lot of time to delving into the study of sound physics, applying to readings of books picked up in the city library, ranging from high school to higher education, from basic to more advanced, that would help him understand the enemy and think about the best ways to protect himself from it. He never liked the discipline in question in his school, but now he needed to agree that once you understood the concept of matter itself, it became fascinating in anyone's eyes.

Finally, on the wall on the right, there were meticulously organized shelves, occupied by tools, wires and various pieces recovered from electronic equipment, as well as books and more newspaper articles piled up. Ben leaned over the bench working intensely on something, wearing a huge dark headset that hid his large ears. Under the workbench was an old microphone connected to a transatlantic radio, which in the bright light of the box made it possible to see all kinds of buttons and needles. Below a switch labeled with two stickers that said: "RADIO" and "SPEECH", the man's hand rotated a large button in search of a signal; this could be a sign capable of giving clues of life out there.

He pressed a button on the microphone and a handful of small sound sounds emerged; he used morse code, however, there was no answer. His lips compressed in sheer frustration and he took a deep breath, picking up a small soldering iron near the radio. With magnifying glass before his eyes, he worked accurately on his small contraption as a small thread of smoke rose from his work and dispersed into the air. The sound of the radio searching on the phone was almost inaudible.

Ben was happy to return to work after the distraction of his to-do, caused by the guest in his home. Rey's recovery was going well; the wound began to heal and lose the intense reddish aspect, and the danger of infections had passed, although she was not yet able to get around for some time. Ben continued to serve his meals in the room and meet the visitor's needs in the best possible way, even if it ended up disrupting his routine, making him frown a little more than usual around her.

Moreover, they did not talk much, but this was not due to the absence of intimacy, but rather to Rey's somewhat insistent interest in the daily life of the farm and about the community around it. Something in his actions led the man to believe that she did not plan to leave the place, however he liked to think that such an idea was silly in his head, because there was no possibility of Rey's stay extending indefinitely after her full recovery.

Ben couldn't get off the feeling of mistrust that appeared when he thought of Rey. Everything in that girl exuded fear and apprehension, he just couldn't tell the reason precisely, causing him to go over the details of her narrative numerous times, inducing him to assume that the actual version of the facts had actually been edited.

Through the little information he obtained from her in her first conversation, Rey had joined a large group soon after the invasion, which in the worst of possibilities in Ben's head could mean that the woman in his home was fleeing one of the sects that populated the other side of town, raising the situation to a much more dramatic level than he would have imagined.

Phasma came to mention them in the past, but the man disregarded the subject, since those people never came to this side of town, excluding any of the referents said to be his problem. However, he remembered the tone of contempt used by the former U.S. Marine in his speech, as well as in the way she repudiated the behavior adopted by those people.

So this could be indicative for Solo to admit that there was danger in Rey's stay at his farm? If the fact was true and she hid it from him, what else in the woman's story could be a lie? Was the friend in the woods really a friendly companion, or was he after her being responsible for causing her injuries? If so, were there others like him? Was there any chance the group was looking for her?

The blood boiled inside his head, roaring in his ears.

He should have pushed her harder, he thought, demanded more, life was already a real test of resistance without the presence of people, and Ben did not feel willing to include them in the package in order to raise the level of difficulty of things. No, the safest thing would be to get rid of her as soon as possible, but Rey was his responsibility while she was debilitated, that was, he would have to take care of her like it or not, and pray that nothing bad would happen until then.

Unless, of course, Ben found himself prone to a more radical approach like murdering her, for example. The idea erupted amid his thoughts remembering a soft and harmless whisper, causing him to abruptly interrupt work on his contraption and pull the magnifying glass away from his eyes, as the features of his face writhed in a stupefied and horrified expression.

He had never thought of it, although something inside Ben pointed out that he should have done it. The alternative faced his beliefs and doubts as to what extent he would be able to cross to maintain his safety. He did not even know whether these assumptions were true or not, since they summed up to it; they were deductions and nothing more. Still, that initial thought already infiltrated his mind in unexpected ways, finding there a fertile soil.

Solo's eyes went in the direction of the televisions, watching one of the monitors that displayed images of Rey sleeping in the guest room. He and his neighbors were forced to cross that line in the past and the action almost completely dismantled him. It was a consensual and planned decision, but one that never brought him pride, but rather nightmares at night, beyond a thick layer of guilt haunting his thoughts continually.

They had agreed that any event out of the ordinary would need to be notified to the rest of the group for a sentence to be discussed about it. Ben should have told them about Rey, however, chose to keep her a secret for a while longer, as the news could bring uneasy to the neighbors, followed by their unwanted appearance in his home in order to interrogate the girl. Besides, if his suspicions were right, the only options the neighbors would offer Solo would be to send the woman away or silence her forever.

Of course, even though both alternatives didn't seem so absurd in his mind, the truth was that he had no desire to choose either. Thinking of Rey after the assumptions about his past led him to create a wave of affection and admiration for the woman; the things she should have faced and the insistence on fighting for her survival, both barely knew each other and he continued to fear for the consequences that it might bring in the future, but he could not deny that he felt less frowning with the responsibility of caring for the woman and the change in her routine.

Their fate was intertwined and there was nowhere to run. Solo cared about his protection as much as his neighbors, but had helped to take the life of an individual previously to secure it, and yet there was not a single day that he stopped questioning the need for it; was it the only option I had? Was there another way to do it differently? Now, however, he had the opportunity to resort to other means before rushing and committing such violent action as reaper someone's life.

He took a few more seconds in Rey's image and when he found himself prepared to swerve and resume work, his attention was captured by the image of another monitor: a blonde, stray woman entered his property, walking on the sandy path toward the house. Phasma. Solo almost launched himself irresponsibly towards the makeshift staircase, affected by the fear of the well-known figure entering the house and discovering the guest upstairs.

Solo emerged from the opening on the ground and moved rapidly toward the exit of the barn, and then down the sand path until it reached the façade of the white farm. He slowed down and tried to regulate his breathing so that Phasma wouldn’t notice the nervousness impregnated in him. Ben brushed his hair with his right hand and opened a half-forced smile to the neighbor next to the three steps of the balcony, sketching a half smile as well.

Phasma was the most suspicious of all, and he would need to sustain appearances if he wanted to prevent her from discovering anything.

The two greeted each other with nods and began to communicate through sign language taught by Ana Dickson, Connix's best friend who was hearing impaired:

"Hi, I wasn't waiting for you" said Ben, gesturing with his hands.

Phasma extended the plastic bucket he held, and he leaned toward the utensil staring at the contents inside: Fish. The former marine lived near the river and had the habit of fishing daily, so she supplied the neighbors around her with food twice a month, bringing an amount capable of supplying the shortage until the next visit. They marked the day of the visit in advance, so Ben shouldn’t have been surprised by her visit. Phasma made a strange face in response to his reaction. 

She handed over the bucket and gestured with her hands:

"But you should have been waiting” she said “We arranged the visit for today, don't you remember?"

He realized too late his mistake and tried to disguise it with a shrug and a thoughtful expression on his face. He landed the bucket on the first step beside him and replied:

"Yes, it's true. Sorry. I've been a little distracted lately."

Phasma had the squeaking sceptre as she gazed at Ben's figure, analyzing the dark circles under his eyes and the hectic look on his friend's face. She had met Ben soon after the confusion that became the world, he was new to the region and suddenly found himself trapped in this city with no way to return to the place of origin. Of all the neighbors, Ben was the one he liked the most even though he would never admit the fact out loud.

This was due to the fact that he was an individual of difficult temperament, quiet, focused on the things he did and the kind of person who never demanded from someone what he was not able to give, or did not want, at the time. When her years of service in the Navy ended and she returned to the house where she lived with her husband, it was equal to a day with a dreamy clarity, of something that was strange to her, but also familiar; a family routine, but surrounded by a strange calm, even more than the one to which he had become accustomed before leaving.

The woman focused on directing her attention to something and going in search of that, without calling for the consequences. Letting an impulse turn into a compulsion, especially if you thought you were contributing to a greater cause. That was one of his reasons for being in the Navy for another period. And she always regretted not going any longer. She liked to wear the uniform, give orders, be respected and confronted by men who doubted her ability, to feel truly useful and important for some cause, instead of a simple wife who was now a housewife, sometimes worked in a concrete cubicle as an accountant receiving a mediocre small salary, sometimes feeling guilty for not being able to conceive the son expected by her husband.

His marriage began to break down after some time, partly because he was the gregarious type and she preferred isolation. That was already a source of strength for their relationship, but no more. She didn't just think he was beautiful, but she admired him for his confident and outgoing nature, his need to be surrounded by people—recognizing it as a healthy counterpoint to her own personality.

At first, she must have seemed mysterious in her eyes, her reserved way, the need to be alone, even after she thought she had gained her trust. Either she was a riddle to be deciphered, or he thought that as soon as he knew her better he would have access to a new place, a place deep down where someone else lived inside Phasma. She had to be very direct so there was no doubt: this person he wanted to meet did not exist. She was what she seemed to be on the outside. That wouldn't change, ever.

They divorced shortly after and she never saw him again. He was preparing to return to the navy when the invasion occurred and the plans —as well as life—plummeted into a spiral of confusion and unprecedented horror.

But Ben's company relaxed her and never asked for anything from Phasma. The pair fished together from time to time, offered each other help every time it was needed, shared knowledge, complained about a neighbor here and there, or talked about the past when there was no way to avoid doing so. Sometimes they shared the same space and still did not prefer a single word; just a comfortable silence involving the two.

Therefore, one is suspicious of the attitude of man, since Benjamin could be many things, but distracted was not one of them. She looked at the path he had come by and then again watched him.

"Working on your contraption?" she asked, with a little smile then. Solo let out the air trapped in his lungs and nodded, quickly replying, "Yes, I haven't had much luck yet."

She gave him a squeeze on his shoulder and said, "Relax. You're going to make it one day. Just don't let it consume you."

Benjamin risked a peek at the house, looking out the window of the guest room where Rey was staying. The curtains blocked the view from the inside, but she should be asleep as she turned on the monitor minutes ago. There is no reason to worry, he thought, I just needed to act natural.

He converges his gaze to the blonde's blues and gestures with his hands:

"Are you staying or do you need to visit someone else's house?" He hoped that the woman would leave soon, it would be difficult to explain the preparation of a third fish that neither would intend to eat.

"I visited most of them yesterday and just got back from Connix and Dickson's house. You were my last stop," she said and winked at him. The double feeling made him slide his tongue by the pink lips and raised his eyebrows suggestively. They flirted innocently from time to time, though the interaction of the neighbors never went beyond that.

"It's a shame that your last stop is so rusty and cranky like that." He pointed at himself as he made a grimace. She smiled and pushed him back, straightening the handles of the military-style backpack she wore on her back.

"I'm content with what I have, Solo." 

Ben pretended to be offended and pulled back a step back. She turned her eyes and continued: "But answering your question: today I won't be able to stay, although your cooking is very tempting, Christopher and I set out to go to the Ackbar's house."

The moment of relaxed dissipated being replaced by serious and apprehensive expressions. Ben had forgotten the Ackbar's completely, his attention and thoughts were directed at the girl in his house lately. He felt rather ill —and rightly so—for his own dismay with his neighboring family.

"Are you sure? You know no one will come to your rescue if something goes wrong" he warns, noting the rifle she had on her back for the first time. It was a hard sincerity to reveal, but indispensable at the time. The Ackbar's residence was located miles away compared to the rest of the neighborhood, even if any of them headed to the farm, the commuting time might not be enough to provide any kind of relief to Phasma and Christopher.

They'd be on their own when they were there.

Phasma nodded, knowing perfectly the kind of challenge he would need to face and feeling quite ready to face him regardless of the circumstances ahead.

"Well, one of us is going to need to check the place at some point. We need to know what happened, whether it was the creatures or human beings responsible for whatever has been shot down on the Ackbar's. The sooner we do the better."

Under different circumstances he volunteers to accompany the pair, but to do so he would need to leave Rey alone on the farm and such an idea was out of the question, forcing him to be able to agree only and say at last:

"All right, I'm going to go be careful and remember: my house will always be open to you.”

She saluted and winked again, shaking Ben's outstretched hand and then following the opposite sand path through which she had come, which would take her to the Ackbar's house. Ben watched her disappear among the treetops and bushes, praying that nothing bad would happen to the only person he dared to call a friend in that damn town.

[...]

With his hands covered in winter gloves, Ben began digging a small mound of dirt on the kitchen floor to reveal a long wooden box, on top of hot stones releasing a combination of steam and smoke. He extracted the object from the dirt and led it toward the counter, carefully lifting the lid to display two perfectly cooked fish with lemon and rosemary and garlic scattered everywhere.

On the wall of shelves on the other side of the kitchen, he picked up two plates of paper and two plastic cups, placing them under the counter while resposing the food from the box and passing onto the paper plates. Then he picked up a jar of water in the fridge and slowly poured the contents into the bodies without making any noise.

Ben let the meals cool a little on the counter and headed to the back of the house, going out into the cold midday air toward the water cistern. He always left the reservoir open on rainy days, forecasts were alike for a long time until the next storm. After plunging a bucket into the cistern and closing it later, he returned to the house and headed upstairs.

[...]

Rey had only been up a few minutes. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she focused on changing the bandages of her wound, taking advantage that the first aid box had been left in the room by Ben. She was no nurse, but she knew how to do well with everything she had assimilated over the years with the previous group. An impressed smile appeared on her lips as she analyzed the stitches on the wound, noting the man's well-done work. This led her to wonder if Ben could have any training in the area of health or it was only the result of past experiences that made him acquire this knowledge.

In Rey's case, for example, the second option fit her narrative better. In this way, she had to find a way to treat the physical abuse suffered in order to prevent infections or lasting marks, although she could not get rid of the traces of almost all the wounds through her body. Still, the true scars were carved into her mind; tormenting her sleep, feelings, your way of thinking, seeing the world or dealing with people around her. Rey was aware that the wounds of the body could open, bleed, burn, hurt but heal, while those of the soul remained intact and exposed so that any individual could poke, analyze and further widen the sides of the wound as the pain required to be felt more and more each day.

Rey would never get rid of them; someone chose to cause them and now she would need to find a way to live with them.

This made her experience a revolting sense of anger for the creatures, the circumstances, but especially of her parents, who, even in the event of a threat posed by the religious cult, agreed to join them in handing her over to the group. Just before television broadcasts died and the Government was an instinct for the creatures, the authorities' recommendation was for people to take refuge in rural places or in their homes in silence. Rey's family decided to follow the first, and after weeks of wandering in the forest they found the religious cult they had heard rumors of.

The leader was a wrinkled man, dressed in black from head to toe, looking at them with a pair of clear blue and icy eyes, sketching a gentle smile on his lips. He held a blackhard-cover agenda and a pen as a form of communication and would transpose the image of a calm and supportive person willing to help.

She remembered the pale, downcast appearance on the face of the group's participants, in how everyone strangely wore dark clothing only; surrounded by a silent and indifferent atmosphere, growling with each other from time to time, or in the anxious, terrified and malicious looks that launched around all the time. The place gave her chills at first and tended to get worse in time, when she finally understood that her family had been invited to be part of the service because of her—it was Rey's fertility that they desired.

The cult preached the belief that creatures were a sending from God in order to punish and cleanse mankind of their sins and horrors infested across the world, and that only the silent and devout to their faith would survive the flood. Rey's fertility was important to found the small society that Snoke desired in his sick and frightening mind.

The group's approach to recruiting new members consisted primarily of a friendly and hopeful appearance in persuading them to join them due to their own choice. However, if they still denied the proposal, the cult decided to kill those considered disposable and brought only those who interested them—such as fertile women, like Rey, or someone who could be profitable in some way to worship.

His parents were killed shortly after joining the group, since the leader had no use in the couple, except for their daughter who played a key role in their plan. But before being assigned the function of conceiving, it had been used as a tool to attract new victims, forced to act in small scenarios in order to gain the trust of those people, only to betray them afterwards.

Each of his attempts to warn the cult's targets resulted in minor punishments on Rey's body. She didn't want to be intimidated so easily by them and accept such beliefs without resisting first, although it cost her a lot anyway.

She paused the care of the wound and stuck her hand inside the sweatshirt she wore, touching the skin beneath her left breast, fingering the word _Harmful_ , and then switching to the right where _Sweet_ _little girl_ was recorded by Finn. She felt the skin of the agitated regions, burning, as if they thought for themselves. Finn had a lot of determination, you know? I'd like to fulfill the punishments caused by Rey's transgressions. Snoke, like the other leaders, appreciated that. They would take her to a stream near the residence they lived in and cut her there. The first time, she thought the suffering would end quickly; he thought the creatures would be attracted by the sound of their agonizing screams and recein their lives immediately, however, they never came. She needed time to understand that some noises escaped the creatures' perceptions—to her complete despair.

Finn was like a little boy with a knife learning to write on her skin; similar to a child cutting along imaginary red lines. Cleaning. Sinking deeper. Cleaning. _Bad_. She could feel the word burn on her right hip, followed by _Sinner_ on the left side. Or _Liar_ in the right rib or _Evil_ _Angel_ on the back of your head. She could quiet everyone thinking of disappearing, always whispered and regal, imagining the smiling face of her parents.

And that was what she did as she felt tears flow down her cheeks, dripping in the sweatshirt shorts she wore. She swallowed the hiccup confined to her throat and wipes her eyes with the sleeve of the sweatshirt, resuming the dressing in her thigh. Rey was glad that Ben did not know about them, the discovery would generate curious questions and she had no interest in answering at the time.

Her thoughts dissipated when the man entered the room and sat on the bed. Her face lit up, aiming at Ben's golden eyes studying the bandage she made with a smile trail on her lips. He seemed to admire and envy the feat at the same time.

She frowns, confused, since his cheeks were blushing as if she remembered some embarrassing situation or thought that happened between the two, and could not fend off the memory at the moment. She was doing a mental search for the last few days, but she couldn’t find anything that might fit her profile. He fed her, changed her bandage and administered the antibiotics, took her to the bathroom to bathe and do her needs and only, escaping from a firm conversation with her like a desperate fleeing a shootout.

Time was running out and it wouldn't take long for Rey to stand up again. His evasives impelled her to create intimacy and closely, hindering her plan to conquer Solo's affection or seduce him first. He only looked back at Rey, after picking up the notebook and scribbled a sentence, then showing it:

"Lunch is ready. Would you rather bathe first?"

He was nearby now, separated from her by just a few inches. She instilled the smell of softener and pine emanating from him and settled down, guarding the first aid supplies and raising her arms so that Ben could take her in his arms. He did so and spun under his heels, heading away from the room.

Rey has her arms slung around his neck and her head against his shoulder, breathing against the skin of his neck while admiring his little tats. She felt Ben's body shudder as she received her breaths of air in the midst of a region so hot and sensitive like that, thinking about what other sensations she should be provoking in him right now. Ben Adam's apple was rising and falling a little faster while nervousness and excitement were a heady mist spewing from him now.

He seemed relieved to reach the bathroom and deposit her body in the porcelain bathtub. Rey glided one hand over the nape of her neck, feeling the hair strands there, and then through her shoulders slowly and purposefully, and bumping her nose into her chin before detaching from the manly body entirely. The word _Malicious_ flickers below his left rib. The eyes of both met and still very close to her, Rey whispered a soft and almost inaudible 'thank you', looking away at the bucket in front of him, waiting for him to go out to take a shower.

She heard the arduous breathing and the warmth of her body drift away. The door was carefully closed and without sound emissions afterwards. Rey flattened the edges of the tub and propelled her body up, sitting at the end and undressing from the clothes, forming a pile on the floor behind him. She saw the pile of clean clothes waiting for her next to the tub and smiled, returning to sit in the space before.

He was about to dip the sponge in the bucket cautiously, when he felt the pulsating between his thighs as Ben's scent and memory came toward the center of her mind. She forgot the bath and leaned her spine back in the bathtub, her legs on either side of the bucket, masturbating in a lively way, panting silently, while feeling the word _Despicable_ rise burning down her spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on [ twitter ](https://twitter.com/reyrensolo),[ tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/r3d-scars),[ instagram ](https://www.instagram.com/benrey_solo/?hl=pt-br) and the story has a [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/24ICxNWVuSy2EzkjqoKIfP?si=67AjwJ5PSRidfse8bwntWg) under construction.


	6. Sweet Heresy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some depraved paragraphs are always good...

Perched on the metal tower, she watched the sunrise rise lazily between the mountains, feeling the current of the winds coming from the west collide against her body, making her feel, even if distractedly, free from the feelings that were lost in her lungs and burning slowly. The heat of the tea inside the canteen had long dissipated in the icy air, although she continued firmly squeezing the container. The only difference between Rey and the other people was that she always wanted to see more of the sunset; the sunset had the spectacular colors when it touched the horizon.

Maybe this was her greatest sin.

Intelligence was a gift given to few, but that when one saw himself blessed with it, it was necessary to think clearly how he would use it. And Rey internalized this learning like no one else, laying stone on stone carefully and attentively, before finally achieving her goal in mind.

Three weeks had passed and the injury to her thigh had now become a painful and almost physically imperceptible memory. She had been able to walk normally for a few days, although she chose to limp from time to time in order to scare away a momentary nuisance caused by the impact of moving, or else in order to create the impression of false incapacity to Ben's. Rey felt the tension build up in her stomach as the days went by. Things seemed to be out of control, out of reach, as if she remained only to stay on the farm and wait for what was to come.

Although she was gaining ground in Ben's life, and tried to earn his trust gradually, the task was not as easy as she actually imagined. He taught her the peculiar ways to operate the preparation of meals and household chores, presenting the place where he got the sand and the correct way to build the trails around the farm. In fact, he had only done so after a series of requests from Rey, but he also did not wish to face the days without occupations that could clear his mind. Therefore, Rey was increasingly impressed with the techniques employed in Ben's survival, unable to see herself with her parents thinking about any of those tricks at the beginning of it.

When the first rays of sunshine began to cast on the farm and illuminate Rey's skin, she threw her head back as the heat spread throughout the region. Ecstasy and paradise. They were the appropriate adjectives to describe that place in her head; an eden of stability and convenience in the midst of the hell that the world had transformed. The home of her savior consisted of a clear proof of the result that collective efforts could culminate: security and years and years of life for all involved.

Rey was unable to stop reflections on what her life would have been like if she had bumped into Ben, rather than her previous group. Her parents would still be alive and her body saved from Finn's scars, she claimed with no real proof.

But it was no use thinking about what's in that time, since she needed to focus on and how from now on. Solo's day-to-day insertion served as a bridge of rapprochement between the two in broad respects, favoring her desire to delve deeper into the details of her rural life, as the percentage of chances of her project being successful or whether the plan would be an imminent failure after all.

The greenish brown irises again observed the last moments of the flickering of the flames in front of them, before they disappeared and left a trail of dark smoke behind. It wasn't long before and the bonfires of Ben's neighbors followed the example of the former, only black smoke dissipating into the sky soon after. She had seen him do it countless times over those three weeks; he did so every day and always at the same time. Sometimes, after the flames went out, he would only sit there for several minutes, smoking a cigarette while contemplating the horizon.

Naturally, Ben did not trust Rey enough to instruct her to perform a task like that, but as she went downstairs that morning and saw him asleep deep on the couch, generating clear evidence that he would not get up so soon, she decided to take the reins of the situation and take responsibility on her own. When she saw him on top of the metal tower for the first time, she asked Ben the reason for the action, which he had responded to as a mechanism of communication between the survivors, a way of signaling that they remained alive and well.

And she still thought she couldn't be impressed even more with the situation.

Her curiosity widened a few more levels after the justification, so that when he moved away from the property, she took the opportunity to search the house for information or details that the man was hiding from her. Rey had discovered the names of the neighbors, the respective paths of sand that led to the house of each of them, as well as the rules and functions stipulated for the purpose of sustaining the elaborate society.

She even inspected the red barn, skirting the rusty farm machinery until finally finding the makeshift workshop underground. Although he demonstrated knowledge of mechanics and engineering, which really captured his attention, were the security cameras located throughout the farm. At first she feels violated by having images of her open privacy and the man's disposition when she wanted to, even astonating whether he had ever sat at some point in that room, spying on her movements in the room where she was staying. On the other hand, she found herself in a pit of despair and fear. Her secret wanderings around the house were recorded on those cameras, so did he know what she was doing when he wasn't here?

Rey scrupulously examined Ben's expression that night, as they dined in the kitchen in the light of lanterns, looking for something to denounce his knowledge of it, but there was only serenity and contentment in his features—the second being probably the one, probably coming from the meal he ate. She did what she could to mess with her senses in a subtle way, during the time she still needed to be carried in her arms or make meals in the room. But now that the special treatment no longer existed, the feeling quieted seeing advantages in the discovery, which led her in one night, to wear only a shirt of sleeves and a panties to sleep, having fun the next day, with Ben's commitment to dodge being caught watching her, the red ears as if at any moment would emit smoke from them.

The coexistence brought the understanding that her restless mind desired, silencing her internal fears by concluding that Solo longed for her without suspecting that she really longed. The certainties solidified when their eyes met for a moment, and the shock of magnetism between the bodies surfaced—the attraction was undeniable.

Moreover, his commitment to keep it hidden among the walls of the farm was an emblematic attitude worthy of being recognized, but that only reinforced his suspicions. Ben was filled with grief when one of the region's residents came to visit him, which prompted Rey to deduce that none of them were properly informed about his presence there. Rey was a secret that Ben had no pretensions to reveal to anyone.

The issue could become a hindrance in the near future, after all, if Ben alone already proved to be a suspicious and cautious being, imagining what the stance adopted by the rest of his companions would look like, it was a scenario from which Rey would like to scare away from his mind. However, she had decided to extinguish this concern for the time being, as the owner of the farm was her main target. Besides, if you were smart and knew how to seduce him properly, the rest would be history and less complex to solve than the first.

She finally looked away from the fuzzy clouds flying over the bluish sky, toward the white farm, stopping at the scumless and sleepy figure, posted on the balcony of the house, watching her. He felt his heart miss a beat as his intimacy contracted, making her look softly when she caught him aiming at her so intensely without being conscious at any point.

She fed an unparalleled pleasure by the way he stirred with his feminine sensibility in a different and inevitable way. It was only enough to know him to know what it was like to feel adrenaline, persuasion and malicious anxiety.

The word “ _Evil_ ” is burned like never before on her lips, acting as a precursor of energy by lighting up the words cut off on your skin. She burnburneding and didn’t give a crap about it. She loved being the dangerous, sexual woman Ben was waking up to.

Rey quickly descended from the metal tower, moving down the sand path toward him. The golden eyes never distanced themselves from her, and as Rey got closer, he clearly saw the curious and harshly angry countenance of the farm lord oriented to his person. Even so, the woman did not allow herself to be intimidated, in fact, not even pretend fragility on the once injured leg she tried. Ben was aware that her wound is healed, and despite knowing that she also knew it, he had not yet made any mention of sending her away.

Rey felt that he was torn between what should be done and what he really wanted to do. A lonely man isolated from civilization for so long equal to Solo, possessed his needs there, and Rey, as the young and unimpeded woman he was, clearly showing his satisfaction and interest in meeting the wishes of the elder, was able to instigate any restless mind and accustomed to repressing his basic instincts, to rambling and reconsider his views.

She almost smiled on her face, but repressed him in time, maintaining the usual neutral and friendly stance. As soon as she reached him, stopping in front of the steps that led to the porch and then the entrance to the house, she sketched a short smile and gestures with her hands the words "Good morning" in the exact way he had taught her.

Tired of communicating with her through writing, he had been teaching her some signs of pound language for a week, but how little he knew was still not enough for him to build solid phrases capable of sustaining a long-term conversation with Ben. It would take weeks for her to be fluent in the new form of communication, however, that is, if I convinced him not to send her away first.

He took time to return the greeting, but still does, evidencing all his irritation and astonishment at her daring to accomplish what she had just done. She felt that he has more to say than just 'Good morning', her shoulders shrugged unintentionally and the inner flesh of her left cheek was captured by her teeth. Rey was afraid, frightened, maybe she went too far and he confronted Solo's authority. She could not forget that he was of the opposite sex and that that property belonged to him, both factors, allied to a world without rulers and laws capable of protecting her or punishing the said referent of committing any violent action against the woman, put Rey in a position of dangerous vulnerability.

She didn't think Ben would be included in this kind of category, but her previous experiences taught her that not everything is what it seems and a little distrust and caution didn't hurt anyone. Therefore, underestimating the target would be an attitude that besides being arrogant, would be inconsequential too, he was not stupid, maybe knew more than it transcame, possibly already realized his attempts at seduction and was only curious to find out how far she intended to get with that whole little theater.

Rey was stepping on eggshells here; she was not the only one wanting to take advantage of the situation from which the two had been intertwined.

Both of them keep staring at each other for longer than they really should, and Rey could say how things could dissipate if they continued with all that tension through the air that surrounded them both at the time. Ben, with her arms folded in front of her body, the tape from top to bottom, as if pondering something she unfortunately couldn't know. That was when his muscles relaxed as the air exhaled through his mouth, looking away from the clouds in the sky.

She feels she can breathe more relieved. He's not happy with the direction their relationship has taken, and yet it wasn't as uncomfortable as he probably thought he should feel. Finally, she decides to climb the steps and pass right next to the manly body, rubbing her shoulder on her arm. She saw him immediately retract into his position, the Adam's apple trembling, as his lips were part of expelling a deep breath of air toward the environment. His brown eyes search for her, his manly body facing the entrance to the house where she was, watching her hands gesticulate the question: "Breakfast?". She had prepared tea and oatmeal with granolas for the two of them that cold morning.

Ben sat down and led her to her, who gave his back, following the hallway leading to the kitchen.

This is how she knows that Ben resembles a huge and juicy fruit waiting for the harvest.

[...]

Ben and Rey are moving through a very wooded area, with dense treetops covering almost the entire sky, feeling the wind buzzing through the leaves that churk with the whispering of the breeze. The luminosity of the day barely reached the ground, due to the trees at this point being very shaded, although some beams of light managed to enter the forest. There were camping backpacks on his back and winter coats protecting the two from the cold air that predominated in the environment.

It was the first time since the accident that Solo was taking her away from the white farm. The younger one felt happy, although a little nervous too, as the opportunity was perfect to start her plan. If everything went as expected, the intimacy status between the two would be very different when they returned to the farm.

She inspired the pine air mixed with the wooded scent impregnated in her coat, curious to find out if his skin exuded the same smell too, while holding her breath for a few seconds, before letting the air out through her mouth. His eyes were glazed in the figure of Solo in front of him, being easy to perceive only by Ben's walk, how confident and sure of himself he was, as if unpredictably nothing was capable of hitting him.

They had finished their nearly two-hour journey through the woods to cover the lines of traps. Ben carries a bow in his left hand and a strip of arrows on his shoulder, keeping his attention directed to the sides while he is attentive to the sounds around him. Their steps are synchronized and wide on the sand path, dore straying from bushes and vines as they narrowed the trail silently.

They were lucky in the traps—five rabbits, two squirrels, and a chubby beaver that would make a good stew. Rey counted about forty traps along the trail they walked, five of which remained intact the way he had armed, unlike the other two, appearing to have been crushed by something large and heavy, while the rest had long had their purpose in capturing the animals, but eventually found by the same thing that had destroyed the two ambushes earlier.

The first thing that caught Rey's attention as he approached such traps was the putrid smell poisoning the air, followed by the scene of hairy bodies entirely torn apart by claws and traces of blood and guts everywhere. There was no doubt about the presence of the creatures there. She felt her stomach wrap up whenever she came across the same scenario, as if trapped in a circle of endless repetitions. Ben, on the other hand, seemed accustomed to witnessing degrees of violence like that, kneeling before the ambushes and disarming each of them meticulously and patiently, removing the animals' remains from close range, taking them behind some tree as he moved on toward the next trap.

As they advanced along the way, she watched him set the traps again with all the care of the world, knowing that she would never be able to rival her instinct for balance in the same way as Solo. It was much more than experience. It was a natural gift.

When the couple finally left the wooded surroundings behind, the sun was no longer so high in the sky. The sound of water gushing at the top of the waterfall was the only thing Rey could hear, moving her feet in front of each other through the rocky ground, feeling the coolness of the stones spreading through their nerve endings, chilling her from head to toe.

Thick vegetation decorated the surrounding place, displaying a great view of the sky filled with a few fuzzy clouds, while a trail of rocks guided to the top where the water collapsed. Her eyelids closed unintentionally, enjoying the clarity that bathed her body and quickly succumbed to the cold that dominated her soon after staying for hours in the icy forest.

"Are you coming?” His voice made Rey rise and turn his head toward him.

The irises dilated as the heart began to beat frantically inside the chest, the rib cage rising and falling due to decompensated breathing. She shrank unconsciously casting frightened glances around the woods surrounding the waterfall, waiting for a creature that did not come. Ben frowned in worry and approached her, grabbing her shoulders, forcing her to look at him.

Rey waits for the state of abrupt fright to disappear, staring into the golden eyes of the man who saved his life. Finn's tortures taught her that sounds like the waterfall could overlap with others, such as an exchange of dialogues between two people, so that it was Ben's voice responsible for scaring her like a shot in the dark. It's been a long time since Rey had heard a human being address a word to him, in fact, there was the impression of decades being reflected more deeply about it, since silence used to be the only thing his life was diving into now.

"All right?” Solo asked, removing his hands from his shoulders as he observed her slight nod.

“I'm sorry. I'm no longer used to hearing voices, not even mine, I think.” she babbled in a small voice, smiling faintly then.

He also smiled with his answer, perfectly understanding of the feeling. She decided she liked to see him smile.

“Yes, I'm sorry. It's like learning to talk and listen again. The good news is you get used to the weather.”

His lips opened in a broad smile, making her notice the clear, pointed and perfectly imperfect teeth, as well as the serious and delicious laugh that the man possessed. She holds her lower lip between her teeth, attracting his gaze to the region, which glided tongue gently into her, glazed on the trapped skin, becoming whitish as she tightens.

"And you think we're going to have that much time?” The question escaped from her lips spontaneously, her eyes narrowed in Ben's direction.

He flashed by squeezing his lips into a hard line, intensely pinning his attention on the younger woman's face, without expressing any emotion.

"I have to clean up the hunt while it's still early" he said after the silence became awkward between the two. He spun under his heels walking to near the place where the waterfall flows. "Why don't you take advantage of the river to take a bath?”

"Bath?” asked Rey right behind him, uneasy about the sudden change of subject.

 _What the hell did he mean by that?_ she thought.

Ben got rid of his coat, throwing it over his backpack by the bow and arrows, settling into a rock in front of the fighters piled on the ground. There was a machete and a metal bucket with water next to the stone.

"Yes, bath. Although the bucket and sponge are a good alternative at home, it is a limited cleaning option in many ways. Believe me when I say that a bath in the waterfall has no comparison.”

The backpack strapped on Rey's back slipped down his arms, landing gracefully on the ground before his feet as his words echoed through his mind. The idea sounded tempting, interesting, his hair was oily even after his failed attempts to wash it over the past few weeks, perhaps the strands only needed a few minutes under that torrential water, to regain the usual swing.

Moreover, it would be the opportunity he had been searching for days to get what he wanted from man.

She pulled the zipper of the coat down, completely undressing from the garment, followed by light jeans, the dark-sleeved t-shirt, undoing the hair of the three cohesives, leaving only panties in front of her. Now she understood why he stuffed some toiletries and change of clothes in her backpack. Ben loses his breath with each piece that the youngest discants, his cheeks and ears blushed, holding a rabbit in one hand and the machete in the other in order to remove the animal's skin.

"Are you coming?” she reasked the question he had asked her earlier, avoiding denouncing the fun in her voice.

Rey's skin chilled with the biting wind ricocheting into her body, hardening her nipples instantly. He swerves, tense, diverting her attention to the task in front of him, breathing hard and even redder himself compared to a second ago. Rey can sense the discomfort in Solo, but only because he liked what he saw. The cuts on her body went unnoticed, he would need a closer angle to see them, which is good, she did not want to get into that topic too soon, would prefer to accomplish what she planned first.

Picking up a soap and the shampoo and conditioner bottles in her backpack, the younger woman headed to the point where the water poured out, putting the objects on top of the rocks, concentrating on not slipping on the trail of wet stones. The water is frighteningly icy in a first contact with her warm skin, however, after a break in order to catch her lost breath, she ventures back into the water with her eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of freshness in her thoughts.

Rey delighted for a few minutes in this position, and then crouched and grabbed the soap. She soaped up her limbs, pouring shampoo into her hands, passing through his hair, using his thumb to massage his scalp slowly. She repeated the action three times, squeaking the conditioner into the wires last, rinsing and ridding the body of the soap as well.

Minutes later, Rey found himself floating in the water, in the deepest part of the waterfall, sinking his head a few times and swimming back to the surface. She didn’t know how long she's been in the middle of the water, but it must be a lot, since her eyes converge toward the man on the shore, stripped of her clothes and entering the water, a little away from her. On her back, she wiped the body and swam below the surface, submerging it a few seconds later.

Rey felt the intimacy throbbing, burning, due to the anticipation of getting his hands on the man. Like a crocodile, she floats towards her, her entire body submerged except for her eyes, contemplating her wide back, wondering what it would be like to scratch that region from her prey.

That's when without too many forts, she touched him at shoulder height.

"Can you rub my back?” The voice was low, soft, inviting.

She felt Ben's body retreating before the unexpected touch as she turned in front of her —the iris dilated by surprise—first aiming at her bare lap, distorted by the flithing of the water around her, and then raising her gaze at her height, right after the impact of her approach has passed. The peaceful expression had returned to Solo's face when she turned her back, pulling her hair away from the nape of her neck so that he could have full access to the region.

Rey felt the contact of the rough hands soaping her skin, running from the shoulders to the base of the spine, in a much more intimate and pretentious way than the younger one assumed that her host would allow himself to touch her. He massaged with circular, slow, top-to-bottom movements, causing Rey to unable to stop the low groan that escaped through his lips, when Ben slipped his caresses by the length of his neck, over his ribs, only to remake the course again. This was the opportunity she had been looking for for weeks, so she wasted no time in wrapping the man's hand in hers.

His movements were held at the same moment, hesitantly, as she felt his breathing accelerated on the back of her head. Noting that there was no mention on her part of repelling the younger woman's boldness during the brief seconds that followed, she guided his huge hand toward her right breast, making it impossible not to be stunned when she watched him release the soap into the water, which she was holding with her other hand, to join in the function of stroking both soft, prancing breasts. The bodies are much closer now.

The girl was glued to Ben's hot chest, the contact making her chill, being able to hear very close to her ear, Ben whisting the air of the lungs along with a grunt, when their breasts hardened between their palms. Rey had planned something, just didn't know which way his plans would lead. Until now, Ben had not refused any of his attacks, suggesting that he not only wanted her, but she could also be more determined if she did want to.

Therefore, he got even closer to the manly trunk, brushing his ass prancing against the hard and inflamed limb in a move that left Ben breathless. Both sexes surfaced, rubbing against the thin fabric of their intimate parts attached to the bodies, made Rey feel the moisture between his legs, as well as the great need to have the region fingered, however, even greater while inducing Ben to run his thick fingers through the skin of her smooth abdomen, until he reached the bar of his thin panties.

His hand abandoned his, when he bowed a little, positioning his chin on his collarbone, there floating in the water, Rey leaned his head on the older man's shoulder, while his fingers moved away from the elastic of the panties to find the damp folds of the younger's intimacy. Act that makes her tremble when his cold fingers bumped into Rey's pulsating heat.

Another groan escaped through the younger girl's separate lips, when he moved by the extent of it, seemed like torture, the best she ever felt. And when he wrapped her point of pleasure with slow but accurate movements, she was sure she would enjoy it soon if he continued.

However, cumming on the older one's fingers would not be enough. It was thinking about it that she turned at last, to capture his lips in a starty kiss that was soon reciprocated in the same intensity. Ben brought her closer, forcing her to curl her legs around her hips, as if so, she could break the law of physics that two bodies cannot occupy the same space.

The sexes were intensely brushed, the arremeter was almost inevitable when they were already so burned with desire. Rey wasted no time in sticking his hand in his underwear to release Ben's furious reaction. With her hand around his swollen limb, she felt him moan on his lips while massaging the erect extension, while maintaining the kiss. The man seemed at his limit when she used her thumb to skim the greeting of her glans, so she knew the man was ready to finally be inside her.

He got rid of the panties as fast as being in the water allowed, to entangle the limb against the viscous edges of his excitement, accommodating the stiffened gland there, before guiding it into it. Solo exuded the air between his clenched teeth when an almost painful pleasure spread through his veins. From then on, control seemed to make no more sense. Ben led them to the smoothest stone near the water in order to be able to shore up Rey's body, running into it, holding onto one of Rey's thighs firmly, while using the other, to support both of them on the rock.

With her arms around his neck and her back against the cold stone, she propelled her body up swinging her breasts on Ben's face, which wrapped a nipple between her teeth, now sucking or sucking, as she fit better into it, reinforcing the grip of her legs swum around her waist, causing the limb to enter deeper, until the curls of her cunt touched Ben's belly. He entered and exited from inside her firmly, in harmony with Rey, who responded to the movements with a spin of the hips or a ride, up and down, at the same pace as him, feeling a flash reach his spine and radiate through his body.

She throws her head back, hearing the sound of the waterfall drown out her groans and sighs of pleasure, feeling the warmth of her body and mind being consumed by that heat. He was everywhere; from the hand clinging to her waist mercilessly squeezing the flesh, to the mouth that was in her breasts, busts, neck, rubbing her cheek and pressing her lips apart, sticking her tongue inside, wrapping hers. It was better than she expected, yes, as she would like to give herself to him again in the near future.

His inner muscles tightened around the limb, the same one that responded by stiffening further, pouring drops. Rey opened her eyes, aiming at the lascivious desire shimmering in his golden eyes, hearing his hoarse groan echo through the waterfall amid the constant flickering of the water, making it difficult to prevent triumphant smile growing on his lips.

It was then that they both began to move willingly, her going up and down at a marked pace, following his massive stoothes, moaning in a way that drove him crazy.

When her body began to have spasms and a scream in the shape of his name slipped out of her throat, Solo grabbed Rey's hips, holding her in place as he penetrated her, prolonging her delight. It was only when her head landed on her shoulder with exhaustion that the man finally conquered her orgasm, firing her semen into endless spasms against Rey's womb, she felt such a pleasure that it only allowed her to nurture a single thought: _Rey wanted him to stay with her forever._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on [ twitter ](https://twitter.com/reyrensolo),[ tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/r3d-scars),[ instagram ](https://www.instagram.com/benrey_solo/?hl=pt-br) and the story has a [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/24ICxNWVuSy2EzkjqoKIfP?si=67AjwJ5PSRidfse8bwntWg) under construction.


	7. Harbinger Of Chaos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I tried to hold on to this chapter as much as possible because its continuation is still in the early stages of preparation, which means it may take a while, but I know if I can hold on for longer, so here we go.
> 
> There are explicit sex scenes in this chapter and mention of the mutilation that Rey has suffered in the past. I hope you enjoy the chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Shades of red bled in the sky; opal, seawater and sky blue, merged into the darkest purples of thick, slender clouds. Gusts of fiery winds collided with trees and shrubs around the farm, engulfing the area like a strong and overwhelming tsunami. It was as if the weather was welcoming a great storm, but Benjamin knew that what was to come could be much worse than a storm. Nature seemed to conceive of a landscape that made a direct allusion to its spirit in recent weeks. His soul seemed torn between the vibrant colors in the sky, and the storm-shaped warning signs that his restless mind sent him.

He faced the dense night layer to bury the colors that covered the sky, desiring to return to the time when his only concerns were focused on survival, but he was distracted, lost in a torrent of thoughts that left him inattentive to the point of departing from what was happening around him. The days were strange, something was different on the farm and he did not know how to receive this change. He was beginning to bother with the proportions his most irrelevant feelings were taking toward Rey.

Ben wanted to be able to say that it wasn't affecting him, that he was smart enough to ignore her and go his way, but that didn't happen. The truth is that he didn’t mind being manipulated, or watching her take the reins of his life slowly, guiding them both toward the bottom of the cliff that for so long he avoided plummeting. He thought that constant exposure to the dangers of this new world had prepared him to protect himself from threats like Rey, an effective immune response vaccine against a specific disease that tried to infect his body.

Gradually, however, he began to understand that he would not be able to resist her. His body liked too much of the sensations they provoked to devote themselves to fighting her, numb, their basic instincts were more asurfaced than ever, hallucinated by the kind woman who granted them the chance to play on the playground again. Every time a brief emotion flared, no seemed tiny, he tried to condemn and bury them in the deepest gap in his soul. Still, living with her made him more debilitated, at the mercy of his power and influence, so that resisting became a painful torture.

One wondered at what time of those four long weeks, after the episode at the waterfall, he had become so sloppy with his own safety; when the mere thought of living on that farm without her presence became so uncomfortable. It had never been through his mind that superfluous isolation, which he thought was his best defense against the outside world, would actually be his greatest weakness. It was relatively easy for Rey to realize the fact right away? Ben was such a predictable man to read like that?

Anger awoke in him.

She disarmed him in the middle of the battlefield, without warnings or sudden movements, leaving him kneeling on the ground splattered with blood and corpses, empty-handed beside his body, vulnerable, as he watched the enemy in golden armor approach mounted on his horse, waiting for the final blow that would end his life. Surrendered; it was the only word he could think of to define that situation. Even now, in the midst of so many conflicting thoughts, her gaze was all he could remember. That penetrating greenish brown look he had seen over himself, almost causing him to lose his breath.

Still, he knew he shouldn't extend her stay any longer than necessary. There were probably a hundred good reasons — such as the fact that she was hiding troubling secrets, or that her life was complicated enough, without any need to start adding strangers to it. But there was something about Rey that he couldn't resist. Since she gave in to her onslaught on the waterfall, she had absolute control. No uncertain eyes, no anxious questions about what he thought, wanted or liked. No decision to make — everything was already decided. All he had to do was relax and have fun.

It was as if Rey had fallen l from heaven, into his life, from the beginning; an angel with torn wings, with tears in his eyes and a broken, broken heart, surrounded by an angelic halo with small fires everywhere, while hiding in the depths of his being, a profane smile and a pair of devilish horns. He knew it was too late to catch up on the facts now that she's so close to having it entirely in her hands. As if sent deliberately to Ben by some divine entity of another dimension, conceived for the sole purpose of fulfilling all his longings — from the most sauly to those he did not even know were there. It's nefarious, irreparable and no turning back. And he doesn't want anything other than burning with her.

He felt his hair flutter when a more intense stream of cold air went through the open window of the room. He looked at the way he was sleeping behind him in bed, trying to identify how she felt about him, but couldn't. Sex — that was all, at least for him. A very satisfying fuck — enough to ward off loneliness and boredom for a few hours.

Liar, his mind whispered with an evil smile, causing Ben to crisp his lips and take a deep breath. Their involvement was not the work of chance, much less a consequence between two individuals, who had long lived alone and lacking in the affection that another human being could offer, but rather of a plan perfectly orchestrated by the cunning mind of the woman in her bed.

Your suspicions about her past were only confirmed when you see the scars on your skin. God, what kind of human being would be able to do such a thing? He wondered in horror. He remembered narrowing his eyes and brushing his fingertips through each of the cut words, trying to understand the lines on his skin. He had a curious, frightened look on his face. Questions about her doubled after seeing that. His gaze found that of Rey, feeling her naked body tremble in his arms, probably distressed by what he was thinking of his marks at the time — so far from the confident and cunning woman that he was used to living.

Ben experienced the urge to push her from above her lap, rise from the couch and press her incessantly until she told him all the nuances of her past. But as fast as desire possessed him, he also abandoned him at the same speed. Compassion reached the surface first, prompting Ben to give a kiss in the middle of _Harmful_ , under her left breast, running her fingers over the other scars until she got up turned up: _Sweet little girl_ , _bad_ , _sinner_ , _liar_ , _evil angel_ , _despicable_ , _lascivious_ , _spiteful_. He took his shirt off his head as she sat like an obedient child.

He took off his pants with her help and lay her on his back on the couch. He was excited. He put his mouth on his nipples, his hands running over her: her back, her breasts, her thighs, her shoulders. The tongue in her mouth, neck down, over her nipples, between her legs, then back to her mouth.

Ben let her prove himself to him.

Then she guided him into her, cumming fast and strong, and more than once. Ben could feel his tears on his shoulder as he shuddered inside her. They fell asleep wrapped around each other — a leg protruding here, an arm behind a head there — the tip of their index finger bumping into one of the words engraved on his rib: _Omen_. Good or bad, he couldn't tell. At the time he chose to think it was good. Idiot. Because early in the morning the next day, when dawn caused the faint sun to hit the few scars on his back, the words seemed to come to life, and Ben realized it was the end of remission. It was time to abandon the illusion that everything would be fine when, of course, that wouldn't happen.

A more vigorous wind than the previous one crossed his body, bringing with him a balm of astonishment, causing a wide display of flapping wings, guiding Ben's attention to the top of the sky, where he found birds abandoning their nests and flying quickly away from the forest that surrounded the farm. His eyes narrowed in that direction, knowing perfectly the reason for the hurried retreat of the animals: Creatures. He stared down the land for some monstrous search for trees and shrubs, passing through the front of the house. Nothing. The first thunder of the approaching storm rallied through the black, cloud-covered sky, while the direction to which the birds had abandoned blew a strong and unforgiving wind as if it were a warning that nothing and no one would be there.

Shudder, he felt the first drops of rain hit his face. I wanted to know why getting rid of her had to be so difficult, no wonder how hard she struggled to ignore the almost uncontrollable urge to observe her at all times, only the act of not moving her neck towards her seemed to enjoy all the energy in her body. Ben would like to know what all that meant, even though he feared he would be not at all pleased to find out. Then why was he doing this? What made a completely unknown woman so interesting that he wanted her so much?

You have to put an end to it, Solo! His conscience warned.

He wasn't sure if it was the purely technical aspects that made sex good, or if it was because what they were doing was dangerous. Probably a mixture of the two. Anyway, he couldn't go on like this. He had to put an end to it once and for all. Preferably today, or at the latest by the end of the week, he thought, feeling a pair of hands gliding over his chest covered in the cotton shirt, while a warm body hugged him from behind. The touch made him close the window and turn to it, pulling it closer. One hand strolled over his chest, then hot breathing on his skin.

Rey wore a T-shirt with nothing underneath; her hair was loose, broken in the middle of her head, a little disheveled. Her face was crumpled and she looked slightly sleepy. Ecstatic, he appreciated her beauty. The younger one smiled, wrapping her arms around the man's neck, grabbing the threads of her nape as she claimed his mouth to himself. The tongues soon met, moving at the pace that had already become customary and according to the expectations of each: slow, lascivious, erotic.

His hands dipped under her t-shirt, passing through the beginning of her thighs until she landed on her prancing buttocks, where he left a strong grip on the flesh, controlling himself not to slap the region as he explored the place until he reached the concave that paraded them.

Rey sighed softly against Ben's lips, nesting more between his muscular arms. He lifts one of his legs with one hand, holding her knee at his waist, while his index finger started caressing around the anus, rubbing the perineum and reaching the end of its slit, viscous and warm, preparing to enter. She crams her butt for easy access and he penetrates her with half her finger. Rey shuddered all over, parted his kiss and sank his face against the curvature of his neck. The breath cut her against the sensitive skin of her neck, sending chills through her nerve endings.

Rey lifted Ben's shirt and explored his chest with touch, arching when he stuck a second finger in him and sank deeper. Grabbing Ben's wide back, she began rubbing herself against his body, trying to hold the groan while feeling his manhood completely hardened behind his racing pants. Ben's lips rubbed into the jaw line, following along the sensitive skin of his neck, where he alternated between kisses and bites and licks, chilling her from head to toe.

They were blinded by desire.

Thunder reverberated at the same time as the rain finally collapsed outside. The downpour launched violently against the windows and roof of the house. Ben took advantage of the storm's start to remove her fingers and loosen Rey's leg, sliding her huge hands across the female hips, guiding her back toward the bed. With their mouths together, they get rid of their clothes before climbing on the mattress.

Their mouths moved and their tongues were provoked. His body and face were lying on it. One of his hands rose in order to squeeze a soft, fleshy nipple, while the other went down to the middle of his legs, his fingers sinking between the damp folds until he found the clitoris and began to press it with circular, ritin movements. She sighed in her mouth, in complete ecstasy. Ben's wild eyes sustained hers, sketching out the magnificent expression of carnality as he approved of his pleasure.

Settling closer to Rey, he went on to admire her traits, feeling her body tremble in his hands. He kissed her swollen lips again, sucking them, brushing her teeth on her chin, neck, until she went down her lap, licking the valley of her breasts, climbing one of the hills and filling the void of her mouth with her hard beak. His initially long and low groans, flooded the room, and made gasoline thrown into the fire, the gesture encouraged his innermost, forcing him to jump on her with ferocity, hungry, sprawling - desperate.

Her name creeps down her throat echoing through the room, her body trapped between her sweaty arms, the breaths of both panting. Pressing his pectoral against her breasts, he forced his hands against the mattress above his head, silencing his mouth with his, and instilling the slit between his legs without blinking even a second. She groaned when he punched hard enough for the backrest of the bed to slam against the wall, causing Ben to open his mouth, letting the air escape as he felt his limb swallowed to the end.

His onslaught was strong and deep, while hands held her thighs glued around her waist, her hips spinning from side to side, pushing, snapping and dipping again, then again, while he was chasing his own orgasm. He made a point of maintaining eye contact with Rey, as if he wanted to memorize the reactions his movements provided to her. Her mouth pours dirty cursing against her ear, completely numb by pleasure, hearing her own name being beaten between sycophants, causing Solo to tighten the grip on her thighs between her fingers, until her body gave in to tiredness, when she finally reached her orgasm.

Knowing that she had not yet reached her climax, he takes care of guiding her fingers to the deliciously wet sex, working upon the clit with all the dedication she could give her, while Rey groaned with her eyes closed, stiffened. He feels like gradually the clitoris contracted, deducing that she would enjoy soon. It didn't take long to happen, and Rey began to squirm in response, starting a series of small spasms while cumming between the sheets.

Then he plummeted face down exhausted beside her on the mattress, her eyelids closed, while the sounds of the fiery storm over the house, again traveling through her ear canals again. Just before he let himself be lulled by sleep, the farm owner felt when her hot, sweaty body snug against her, pattering her fingers over her back. At that moment, Benjamin could only think of the worries that plagued him before sex, deciding that he would confront her at the end of the week at the latest, knowing that he might not.

***

The rain fell heavy through the house as they sat down to dine together on opposite sides of the mahogany table. Their heads bowed in prayer, so after a moment they rose and they began to eat pumpkin soup with ginger. There were no utensils. They use bread to collect food. Through the darkness of an oil lantern in the center of the table, he analyzes the monopoly plate positioned between the plastic plates of both. Although the game board was the same, the pieces had been replaced by small wool-colored bobbles, the kind that would be found in a children's Christmas sweater. The houses and hotels are empty, blue and pink sugar packets, while the money were small pieces of green, red, blue shaped rectangles of orange fabric of the same size.

Ben was five spots from Rey's hotel on the Boardwalk. He took a sip of water and placed the glass on top of the cup holder carefully, looking at her, who can't hide the smile. He imitated a prayer before rolling the dice on the dirt floor where he made no noise. Then looked slowly at Rey knowing his fate. She smiled intentionally after taking her money, prompting Ben to try a move that could protect the bank.

Despite this, he already settled that this would be an ineffective effort to change the final result, in view of the skilled and proud player she was, to allow him to win a round that was. Of course, this did not mean that victory would come satisfactorily sweet to the woman in front of him, since the determined man who existed in Ben refused to enjoy an uncomplicated and bitter defeat without a fight before, committed to giving as much work as possible to his opponent until the last seconds of the game.

Rey's confident pose slipped for a moment as she realized what he had just done. She frowned as she examined the plate to restore balance to her advantage, again. Now who was intentionally smiling was Ben, who took advantage of her absorption into the game, to contemplate her lantern-lit profile, culminating in the drastic realization that if it wasn't enough to be familiar with having her daily in his life, now he began to shape himself to live it by his side as well.

Somehow he couldn’t placate the feeling that they were a team now. It was them against the creatures, the two against thousands of countless circumstances. And for some reason, though absurd at times, it made him feel very hopeful about his chances. At that moment, Ben finally found himself recognizing how much the new setting deeply pleased him, when loneliness had been a warm and uncomfortable warmth for so long, as sleeping peacefully alone in a double bed: it was tasty, but so empty.

Her company not only appeased the torment, but also brought her a comfort that could bar that feeling of piercing her heart. It was something about how time seemed to shrink away, as fast as paper on fire. Time didn't drag on like it used to, it flies. He jumps. Pour away like water between your fingers. At the same time that sick feeling grew in his stomach, a heavy sensation that worsened every day, which he dared not even name.

It was crazy. It was stupid. It was dangerous. And in the midst of it, instants, moments, mere seconds; Rey spreading nectar on his nose after he complains about the heavy buzz of the bees in the garden; her head lying between her breasts listening to the beats of her heart; an elegant line of ants marching quietly on the path of sand; her fingers in her hair; the curve of her elbow under her head; Rey whispering, "I'd like to stay here forever" while another day faded into the horizon, red, pink and gold; facing the sky, inventing shapes for the clouds: a row of imperial destroyers; a wookie with a porg on top of the shoulder; a shadowy death star spinning in the open; a golden princess hanging a burly, slug-shaped alien gangster.

Instants, moments, mere seconds: as fragile, beautiful and hopeless as a simple butterfly, flying against a wind that came to meet someone. It was the inevitable blossoming of an old and known feeling, amid the dark and stormy soil that had been her life before her arrival; a magnificent rose with a slight smell of blood. Although he never had given her conscious consent for her to flourish in her soul, she had done so in the same way, and now began to demand her price.

He rummined over the seat, looking somewhat troubled, as he looked away at the plate again. I didn't want to be caught staring at her. The rest of the soup on his plate was cold, but that didn't stop him from continuing to eat the same way, considering that the soup used to be served both hot and cold in the past when it was a popular Thanksgiving dish. The memory of the ancient festivity had made him particularly nostalgic when thinking about it earlier, arousing an involuntary desire to suggest a typical dish of celebration for the menu of the two that night.

In any case, he only went to realize that the meal on his plate was over, when he took a piece of bread to his mouth, and felt it dry, rather than wet. The hunger that once fiercely dominated him had been completely settled then, so that he was content to only chew the food without any accompaniment, drinking a sip of water in order to facilitate the descent down his throat.

Finally, after much meditating on it, Rey risked making his counterattack, looking extremely uncertain and dissatisfied with the performance obtained. Ben did not contain himself in sketching a smile on his lips, cerro that the tactic employed had been smart enough, so that she had no idea how she would defeat him, in the end.

A predictable note of anger possessed her face as she turned to the unfinished soup on her plate. Rey liked to operate on the situation control panel, preferring that things should happen within the expected standards themselves, rather than a series of unpredictable and random occurrences, which made her not know how to calculate the best way to move forward. He noticed how comfortable she was every time she was placed in that position, as if she was being free to be herself, and wanted to enjoy every bit for as long as it lasted.

Consequently, Benjamin could rarely resist the urge to find some means in order to completely destabilize her. It was a delightful feeling to let her jump into the front seat, take the direction while she thought she had all the control she needed, only for him to pull the steering wheel out of her hands, sending her into the back seat the next second. And all because they both liked to provoke, underestimate and over-subvert each other's expectations. The physical approach that had naturally been established between the bodies could hardly compete with the psychological and emotional connection that was gradually constructed between them.

Still, Ben was fully aware that all that attachment — both physical and emotional — was not normal. Even if it made him happy in a way he thought he would never feel in life again, he shouldn't be so comfortable with the fact that he needed someone else's presence so much. But the only thing that supposedly worried him at the time was not being sure how Rey was feeling about it.

After all, she had done nothing but use it blatantly since she appeared in her life, weaving ways to use his weaknesses for her own benefit, intending to remain on the farm; it was the resources he had that interested her, right? Ben was nothing more than a tool to be handled, a puppet to be manipulated, a man slaves to his solitude to be exploited. Isn't that exactly what all her actions pointed out? What reasons did he have to suppose that such could have different motivations?

His heart was pounding, and his subconscious knew that he would choose to ignore the warnings, once again, willing to silence the logical part of his brain that used to get him out of trouble before he even embarked on one, trying to regain the sense of lost lightness a few minutes ago. Removing that particular suffering had become his new favorite hobby, for he wanted to believe that this could be just another ordinary night, which he would sustain the illusion that both were building in those last few weeks, that he could float among the clouds for another day, one more second, before gravity pulled him sharply, there was no other option other than to land on the disappointing reality Again.

Anyway, it was not as if the catastrophic situation he was involved in was able to surprise him, when the path that brought him there hadn't been easy at no point, so he had no reason to think that now it would be different. Her clenched eyes shone with that frustration that he came to know so well, knowing perfectly the purposeful tenor of Ben's intentions.

"Can we play something else?" she asked, gesturing calmly with her hands, after finishing the soup. "I don't know if I can take another minute of Monopoly tonight."

She was making rapid progress in the pound classes that Ben taught her every day. She already knew the whole alphabet of signs and could form solid phrases, although she needed a little more practice until i reached a more agile understanding of the language. Still, he needed to admit how impressed he was with her applied performance.

Resonating in the upholstery of the chair, she concluded that the sudden disinterest in moving on with the game was due to her chances of interrupting the winning streak she had been collecting in that game for the first time. Ben gave a side smile, thinking about how she attested to losing her temper and control of what was going on around her.

"You can't stand the possibility of losing to me, can you?" he said, the sparkle in his eyes denouncing the pleasure he felt. She answered it with a roll of her eyes, contradicted, before beginning to store the pieces and the monopoly plate in the box. "Remember that the idea of playing this game was yours. I tried to suggest something more interesting, but you refused to consider my suggestion.”

"I didn't think you were serious when you suggested that checkers was a more interesting game than chess" She retorted, after packing the game and leaving the box on the table.

"For it should, my dear." Benjamin blinked.

"In that case, I need to warn you that I completely disagree with you" She winked back. "And stop calling me my dear, yes?"

"I'm sorry, my sweet," he replied, with an air of false innocence on her face as she snored disgruntled. "but I'm curious: what makes you think chess is superior to checkers?"

She raised her eyebrows as if to say: "Are you serious? Because the rules of chess are complex and their plays endless, while the checkers are half a dozen. Anyone can play checkers while few can play chess."

Nodding, he watched her with attentive eyes. "So let me ask you another question: what's easier: win a game of chess or checkers?"

She threw her head back in a silent laugh, seeming to mock her question. A debauched smile arose on her lips as she raised her hands from above her lap to formulate an answer, but was unable to perform the action, with a simple negative handle of Solo's head.

"I already know what you'll say. And the answer is not checkers, my sweet" he pulled the sleeves of the flannel shirt up to his elbows, watching her raise an eyebrow in a clear questioning about it.

He continued: "Checkers, with their few options it becomes a much harder game to win. It's all in the open. There are no hidden strategies or architectural moves to the future point. On the contrary, chess, due to the great diversity of moves and strategies, greatly increases the chances of victory."

Realizing the way her eyebrows frowned a little, he decided to explain his opinion by a different approach.

"Let me put it another way: Much simpler is the old checkers game that boils down to scoring a crack on a board with nine squares. Anyone knows how to play. But if the players are at least a little experienced, victory will never happen. It's an extremely simple and extremely difficult game."

Thus, her face was enlightened in understanding, anurendo, seeming to evaluate the question presented by him. With an almost imperceptible sway of his shoulders, he said, "But I still maintain my preference for unalterable chess" declared.

"Of course so," Ben assured, devoid of any emotion in his face. "Being the strategist you are, in fact, it looks a lot more like your face."

Even if the words were not verbalized, recounting the absence of a voice capable of clearly elucidating the intentions or feelings behind it, there was no doubt to Ben that they cut it in any way. Like a collection of knives thrown at their meeting, they seemed to fulfill their purpose after all. The feelings inside Rey caused an evident tremor in his hands, with his sudden and awkward change of attitude. He looked at him in fear; his eyes narrowed at the same time that a wrinkle of concern gained depth on his forehead. Ben took aim at her with a serious and indecipherable expression, her hooded eyes, feeling a strange silence taking over the environment.

"Is there something you want to tell me, Ben?" she asked cautiously.

The farmer slid his tongue over his teeth, moving it behind his lips, analyzing the restlessness that became increasingly palpable around Rey.

"No. Why the question?"

"I don't know. Her words seemed dubious to me,” she replied, thoroughly studying Ben's pale and bright face.

A minimal smile managed to break the stiffness of Ben's compressed lips, although he did not reach the coldness of his golden eyes.

"Your impression, my sweet," he said without any pretense of reassuring you at that moment. "But what about you, would you like to tell me something?" He added some time later.

She rose stealthily in plain sight. He looked at him at a glance, irresolute, denying it with a hurried menear of his head. And he swerved again, standing on a jump and starting to clean the dining table. Ben said nothing. The naturalness that once overflowed over the two slipped through their fingers like fine grains of sand. With a sigh of resignation, he went on to help her with the task. The air weighed heavily on his shoulders and the night of games and dinner for two seemed like a distant memory, almost like a dream.

At the end of the task, Benjamin stopped in front of the kitchen windows, staring at the dangling vegetation outside, listening to the muffled roar of the storm, watching the hectic swing of the lamps erased under the row of lines, and the purplish lighting that was cast over the grounds, due to the rays that crossed the clouds from time to time. The cold and melancholic landscape made him convince himself of the inevitable truth; could not continue to avoid reality. He needed to be responsible and face things as they really were, even though circumstances tended to displease him at some point.

Packed in reflection, he felt a dark black hole form in his bowels. He felt that something very bad was about to happen, when a chill hugged his spine. Stunned, he tried to point out the origin of the dark feeling, thinking that the sooner he took that weight off his shoulders, the better.

But then he was plucked from the nightmare that was his brain, when Rey hugged him from behind, flattening his pectoral affectionately, supporting his head on his back. Solo made no mention of touching it, petrified in place like a statue, feeling the feminine intentions lurking in a predatory and intentional way, like a dense and aphrodisiac mist. His attention was drawn to one of the hands on his chest that began to slowly descend towards the base of his hard abdomen, tread a familiar path that Rey had learned to know so well in those last few weeks.

As soon as the planned target was reached, it began to massage the region with smooth and precise movements. Ben took a moment to enjoy the touch, imagining the smug smile she should be displaying on her rosy lips, her back. The scene deeply displeased him. How long are we going to keep playing these games? thought, moaning low while feeling her male intimacy grow under the little palm, eager to be inside her again.

There was this strange and constant need for Rey to be offering himself sexually to him, as if in doing so, Ben would forget whatever was afflicting him, distracting him from his rationality in order to incapacitate him from making accurate judgments. Bored, she crisped her lips and moved her hand away with rispicity, turning quickly to face her troubled eyebrows and her shrunken shoulders.

"We can't go on like this," he finally declared.

"Why not?" she countered. "You've never complained before, why start now?"

"Because I can't allow you to keep living under my roof while you're thinking to me and trying to manipulate me all the time!" he braved, seeing her retreat a frightened step, with the glossy fury in her gaze. "We've been living together for weeks and the only thing I know about you is how skilled your little hands can be around my dick."

Again his physiognomy expressed surprise. She had no idea that I would dare direct her treatment like this one day, thought Ben, advancing a determined step toward Rey, who by instinct retreated three in response, trembling and trembling, like a frightened animal. Ben was not affected by that behavior, and proceeded firmly:

"I saw the scars on your body. I touched each of them and I understand that whatever happened in the past, it was not pleasant for you at all..."

She interrupted, watching her shake her head with violence, walking through the dimly lit kitchen, turning around the counter, and then approached again afterwards, saying:

"No. You don't get it. How could you?!" She breathes with difficulty, gesturing the signs with distress and nervousness. "We're doing well leaving things the way they are. Just leave it the way it is, yes!"

Solo shook his head. His whole expression softened immediately.

"I can't. I've put this moment off longer than I should have. You can be honest with me and tell me the truth. I know you've been snooping around the house, so you know there are other people living in the area, don't you? I can't hide their existence from them forever."

But his words were not able to bring lucidity to his mistress, when the corners of his mouth bowed in a smile of disdain, and his eyebrows frowned slightly, what he could only recognize as dissatisfaction. 

"Can't you or you don't want to?" he inquired with a sharp boldness.

He smiled incredulously.

"What? Do you expect to be hidden inside these walls forever, living in the shadows of what may or may not happen if it is ever discovered?" he asked, seeing her agree to a confident nod to her head. "It's crazy that you think there's any chance this will actually work!"

"Is it really? As far as I can remember, we've been doing this since I got here and so far it's worked out."

His nervous tic of passing his hand through his thick locks affected him, visibly a means of venting the agony he felt to avoid shaking her by the shoulders. "We were lucky, Rey. That's it, that's all. Don't you see the insanity that is comparing a few weeks of success with a lifetime of decades?"

Her eyes wandered everywhere in the room, one of her hands holding tightly to the side of her neck, probably looking for some miraculous idea capable of returning her the control she cherived so much. He felt a close in his heart when he saw her that way. She took a deep breath, moving close to her silhouette and pulling her into her arms, hoping to calm the panic that dominated her.

Despite allowing him to touch her, she didn't touch a single finger on him. "They will never accept me if they knew the truth, Ben." She spoke exasperatedly, while the emotions scattered across her face pleaded for Solo's pity.

Ben placed a lock of her hair behind her ear, gently stroking her flushed cheek with the tip of her thumb. She lay her face against her palm, grabbing his arm with both hands. "You don't know them like I do. Trust me, huh?" He said, yielding the will to wrap his arms around her, but being rejected immediately while trying to accomplish the act. Ben was astonished, not doing much to hide how much her attitude had affected him.

"Liar," Rey hissed. "You don't even know if you're going to allow me to stay here after you find out, but you expect to convince me that with your neighbors it will be different?" She smiled humorlessly. "Please! Don't you dare insult my intelligence like that."

The farmer's lips opened up expelling a breath of deep air, feeling tired of the turns that conversation was giving without ever really leaving the place. Therefore, he decided to let his guard down and confess the truth that was beating in his heart. "I wouldn't worry so much about it if I were you." His eyes found hers. "I don't know if I could send you away, even if I wanted to..."

At a glance, she nailed in the figure in front of her an inexpressibly singular look; a look that seemed to touch and study all the points of his body, of his face, of his clothes. That could pierce it, fast and sharp, like lightning. She opened her mouth as if she wanted to speak, but whatever the phrase, she never got a chance to say it, as a fireworks session began to explode in the sky, pulling both Rey and Ben from the conflicting and warm discussion the two were having.

Surprisingly, Ben's mind had acquired miles of endless silence. The shrill sound had made the farmer rise in the place that he was feeling the pulse go a thousand, listening to the loud beats of his heart against his ears. He breathed heavily and sweated as he reached the kitchen windows in a few hurried steps, aiming at the vibrant, bright colors that danced in the darkness of the night. His eyes expanded as he saw the Christmas lights on, illuminating the entire length of the farm as they swayed grimly in the wind.

Fear; violent and abrasive flooded him instantly. It was tense like a dangerously stretched rubber band. He leaned forward trying to figure out the direction the fires were coming, but the torrential rain mixed with the darkness of the night made it difficult to clearly distinguish the landscape outside. Therefore, after many minutes of analysis, Ben could only claim that the distress call came from the south of his priority, where Cassian and Christian lived.

He was never exactly close to any of the men, but he also had nothing bad against any of them. Despite this, the pair had been their survival companions since arriving in that city, and felt it was their duty to worry or try to help them in some way. Solo wanted to do something, make something happen, but there was nothing to do. To go out under that storm now would be crazy, a suicidal decision that would serve only to put his safety at risk, more than he's been doing lately.

Soon, all he could do was cross his arms and wait for the spectacle of explosives in the sky to end. Life would move on the next day as if nothing had happened, just as it had happened to all the others who left before them. Solo would find a way to live with that in his spirit. He found it countless times, so could find it again. Or at least he prayed that he would.

Ben ignored Rey's fearful approach to his side, as well as the curious look that was directed at him. He was too focused on feeling guilty and powerless for abandoning one of those men to his own devices, even though he knew that if he were going through such a situation, they would both have made the decision equally without even thinking twice. Still, it wasn't as if the science of such a fact helped relieve the weight of his choice, anyway.

The gentle touch around her arm caused her to awaken from the trance and then watch her face her greenish brown eyes full of tenderness and worry. The exchange of glances with her meant more than words could express at that moment. She fit perfectly into her chest when she pulled her against him, her arms curling around her waist, her chin resting on her hair, inhaling the smell of vanilla present in them, the relief of her arched back under his fingers.

He had his eyes lost over the vegetation, when he saw through the corner of his eye a strange drive at the kitchen entrance. Of course, he should have guessed that the bad omen of earlier contained other senses besides the heated discussion with Rey. Phasma's gray eyes and analyzers first landed on Ben, heading for Rey, taking a little longer at this one, before returning to Ben. Her expression ranged from confusion, doubt, rebuke and alertness, respectively, as the rest of her neighbors emerged just behind, carrying a wet, bloodied Christian in her arms.

Rey's hands left a nervous grip on his shoulders, but Ben did not feel able to look her in the eye now, let alone to convey to him any drop of comfort, when he could not see himself able to provide that sensation even for himself. Disoriented, he could only contemplate the mixed reactions that received him, feeling the ground give way under his feet and cast him into silent and infinite darkness. Although he knew, of course, that the collapse to hell would be slow and catastrophic, and was just beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on [ twitter ](https://twitter.com/reyrensolo),[ tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/r3d-scars),[ instagram ](https://www.instagram.com/benrey_solo/?hl=pt-br) and the story has a [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/24ICxNWVuSy2EzkjqoKIfP?si=67AjwJ5PSRidfse8bwntWg) under construction.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. thanks for getting here! forgive me for any grammatical errors that this text may have, as English is not my mother tongue. I am open to constructive criticism and everything else that you want to talk to me about.


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